Black Talons
by Boudica's Sword
Summary: Synopsis: Will Tsusuki and Hisoka realize they love each other before the psychopath Muraki destroys all Guardians of Death? Tsu/His pairing.
1. Smoke and Mirrors

Black Talons

Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei; all that wonderful creativity is the sole property of Yoko Matsushita.

Synopsis: As the Shinigami investigate a series of brutal murders, they are unaware the killer's real intent is to destroy all the Guardians of Death. There's guns, gore, angst and much drama. Oh, and yaoi, yaoi and more yaoi. Tsu/His pairing. Rated M for graphic sex, violence and rape.

This is a revision of a story I wrote in early 2009. I began with a paragraph or two to "ahem" satisfy myself. And it grew into a real story with chapters and all. Enjoy!

Black Talons

Chapter 1: Smoke and Mirrors

"Tsuzuki, where the hell is Tsuzuki?" Chief Konoe barked. He glared at the empty chair where his so-called top Shinigami should be sitting. The rest of the Second Division of the Summons Department of the JuOhChō Agency sat dutifully in their chairs around the conference table. But as usual, Asato Tsuzuki head of Kyūshū region division, was missing.

"Hisoka, go find your partner. He has five minutes to get here, or I'm docking him three days pay," the Chief barked.

Kurosaki Hisoka, the division's newest Shinigami, hauled his sixteen-year-old body up from his chair and slouched out the door. He was not happy. He figured he knew where Tsuzuki was, and he really didn't care if the man lost pay or not. Tsuzuki was an idiot in the eyes of his own partner.

Tsuzuki relaxed against the agency's brick wall watching the perennial cherry blossoms drift down. They reminded him of snow. Didn't the Enma-DaiŌ ever think about the other three seasons, he idly wondered. He delicately plucked a sliver of tobacco from the tip of his tongue before taking a long drag from his cigarette. Tsuzuki really enjoyed the slight rush he got from the nicotine. He wondered when he had started smoking. Something about Muraki coiled in the deep recesses of his brain. Perhaps that was it, a few months ago, but he really couldn't remember.

He gave a soft snort recalling Hisoka's ballistic reaction when he caught Tsuzuki smoking. The kid had gone into a fucking rage, snatching the pack out of Tsuzuki's hand and crushing it under his boot. Then he stomped off looking more like an indignant ten-year-old than a Guardian of Death. _"He was so cute,"_ Tsuzuki thought fondly.

Speaking of cute, Hisoka stormed up almost on cue. "Smoking again!" the boy snarled. "Chief Konoe wants you. Says if you're not in the meeting in five minutes he's docking your pay." With that cryptic remark, the boy turned around and marched back to the meeting.

Tsuzuki reacted with alarm. He dropped the butt to the ground and ground it out. Then he took a few precious seconds to retrieve it. The Enma-DaiŌ would never tolerate litter in his beautiful gardens.

When he got to the meeting, everyone turned to glare at him. Each Guardian of Death had a folder open in front of them. Gushoushin Elder was delivering the details of a new case. His sudden new love of American-crime drama was driving everyone nuts. His latest DVD acquisition was the entire _Miami Vice_ series. He peppered _and salted_ his speech with "crime-isms" that had the entire team ready to toss him out of the department on his feathered ass. The librarian's normally accurate reports contained incomprehensible vice slang that half the time had no relation to the topic.

The team had bets going when he'd start calling Tsuzuki and Hisoka "Crocket and Tubbs." Except, Yutaka Watari wryly remarked at least Crocket and Tubbs "got some," and it was obvious that neither partner was. Hell, they hardly even exchanged smiles let alone anything else. No one had seen Tsuzuki's cheerful wink lately, and Kurosaki Hisoka was so morose his face had forgotten how to blush. Gushoushin pissed Hisoka off time and again by referring to the boy's beloved 9mm Beretta as a "piece." But then lately it seemed it didn't take much to make the boy angry.

And speaking of Watari. The flamboyant blonde scientist was becoming more and more Anglocentric. He had started referring to people he thought were idiots as "gits" and the ones that made him angry as "wankers." When someone made a mistake, he'd tell them they'd really "buggered it up." Only Tatsumi remained his constant, organized and reasonable self. It was getting to be a United Nations of Chaos around the Summons department. And nobody listened to the Chief who frequently wanted to yell, "Shut the fuck up and get to work!"

Work entailed retrieving the lost souls of people who had died but didn't want to leave the mortal realm. The eighteen Shinigami, also known as the Guardians of Death, were additionally responsible for determining the cause of all unnatural deaths including murders. It was their job to stop whoever or whatever was altering the delicate life-and-death balance in the human world. Much of the time, the work was boring.

"This is a bad case," the secretary Seiichiro Tatsumi said. "Not only do we have several murders in varying regions but Akihito and Naotake, agents for the Touhoku region are missing. We haven't heard from them for two days since they went to Sendai." He flipped his file open and recapitulated the grim details. Twelve young people had been ritualistically murdered. Not only were they hideously burned but somehow their flesh had been regenerated multiple times before death. Dr. Aragatsu Dau, head of forensics at the University of Tokyo's Institute of Medical Science was the consultant on the autopsies. He had no explanation for the obvious signs of regeneration. "We don't know for how long they suffered in incredible agony before they died," Tatsumi concluded bluntly.

The crime photos supplied by baffled police departments were sickening. Despite having seen almost every depraved form of horror, man and demonkind could inflict on living tissue, the photos drew gasps of shock from every member of the team. Every corpse's face was etched in a rictus of horror, their bodies arched in agony, their hands curled into blackened claws. The final horror lay in the clinical, impersonal words of the autopsy report that stated each victim's body was carbonized except for the head, which was completely untouched.

"The official C.O.D. was clearly …," Gushoushin started to say. Everyone gritted their teeth.

"C.O.D.?" Tsuzuki asked deliberately baiting the librarian.

"Cause of death! Cause of death, you baka," snapped Gushoushin. "Cause of death was massive third-degree burns. But it is clear these people experienced unbelievable agony over and over! Obviously, regeneration is clearly supernatural. It almost resembles that of the healing power of a Shinigami. Furthermore, when Guardians were sent to gather their souls they were missing."

"Akihito and Naotake missing! Souls missing, and victims regenerate over and over before finally dying in agony. What is happening?" Watari whispered in horror.

"I have grave concerns that these victims were not chosen by chance," Gushoushin continued. "These deaths are ritualistic. Each victim may have been selected for a particular reason." He outlined the points of the case. The victims were all in their mid-twenties to early thirties. They all were unusually attractive and very athletic. So, it appears the murderer chose these victims based on certain physiological traits.

"It's obvious we are not dealing with a normal human murderer. If it is a demon or soul devourer, it would need to possess a human host to act in the human dimension," Tatsumi related in his calm, modulated tone. "Furthermore, the host would have had to invite this possession even at the cost of his own soul. The host is probably consumed with the lust for power. He is devoid of human compassion, someone who relishes cruelty, desires to elevate the suffering of others to a fine art. A person born without a human conscience. Perhaps a sociopath or …."

"Muraki!" Hisoka spat out. His face blanched, and his jade eyes were huge and luminous with fear.

"Well, we don't know that," Gushoushin placated.

"Yeah, it's him, I can feel it!' Hisoka slammed his fists on the table and glared at everyone.

"_Oh, no. This is too much,"_ Tsuzuki thought. He was already concerned about his partner. There were unmistakable signs that the youth was very unhappy at the Ministry. Hisoka had asked to be made a Shinigami to uncover who violated then murdered him. But when the boy found out Dr. Muraki was the criminal, he was unable to kill the evil monster. Hisoka stayed for the work and hoped to become strong enough to some day exact justice for himself and all of the doctor's victims.

Although wanting to succeed as a Guardian, Hisoka resented the daily training needed to develop his powers. He was impatient with the tedious repetition of spells and incantations. He was taught that magic is a delicate mix of power and knowledge. Channeling energies demanded the practitioner develop a connection with the spiritual energies of the Shikigami, powerful mythical creatures that aid the Guardians against evil. But establishing relationships with the elements of the spirit world took time and endless practice.

Hisoka did not want to take time. He needed the power and its protection now. And Hisoka had no time for relationships.

It was suggested he put aside his gun. The metal in the firearm interfered with spiritual energies and inhibited summoning even a minor Shikigami. In addition, the cold steel lessened his psychic barriers leaving the youth's mind vulnerable to the overpowering emotions of others. But Hisoka was determined not to relinquish the power and sense of control firearms gave him.

Tsuzuki knew the youth had bought a second gun. Hisoka kept it jammed in his jacket pocket. Where would it stop? With one of those automatics, a Mac-10? Hell, Tsuzuki didn't even know what a Mac-10 was, but he'd heard the older Gushoushin twin refer to it often enough. He was also aware Hisoka was now visiting the Saitama Gun Reserve every week. Hell, the boy cleaned the Beretta more than he cleaned his apartment, and his tiny apartment was spotless. Tsuzuki was getting sick of the smell of gun oil.

A couple of weeks ago, Tsuzuki visited Hisoka intending to give the youth encouragement with his metaphysical practices. The kid silently let him in then went back to his small table, which was laden with cleaning kits, magazines, bottles of smelly solutions, wads of cotton and other arcane paraphernalia. Hisoka had just finished cleaning a gun with a brush soaked in solvent.

"Hisoka, please re-consider putting your guns away," Tsuzuki pleaded. "You need more practice at Meifu. I know you want to develop your spiritual powers, and you have such untapped potential."

"Studying takes too long," Hisoka replied in his deep growl. "I need power now. And this is power." Casually, the youth pointed the firearm just to the right of Tsuzuki's ear. Startled, the older Guardian stepped back. He knew Hisoka was an expert marksman and would never hit him. But the point was made, the threat implied. Tsuzuki left feeling very sad.

Now, Tsuzuki feared if Hisoka would not relinquish those guns, he may not be able to remain at the Ministry of Hades.

##

Back in his office after the meeting, Chief Konoe slammed the stack of reports onto his desk. He anticipated they would all be in shock that two agents were missing. But he didn't anticipate Hisoka's reaction or the assumption that the predator was Muraki. And the tension in his division was growing. Hisoka and Tsuzuki were cold, silent, with a wall between them thick enough the Mongolians couldn't breach. The timing sucked. They were facing one of the worst cases in the department's history, and his team was behaving oddly—or more oddly than usual.

The department chief was worried that Tsuzuki was beginning another slide into that deep well of depression. When it gripped him, no one could help. Hell, Tatsumi, who had been his partner, exhausted himself trying to pull Tsuzuki out of his foul moods. The secretary had finally given up and to save his own sanity, requested a transfer. If Shinigami weren't immune to disease, Konoe would almost think Tsuzuki suffered from a mental disorder. The amethyst-eyed Guardian could be elated and annoyingly optimistic bouncing all over the place, inadvertently creating messes and damaging things like a large, idiot puppy. But when he began his dark journey into despair, he frightened everybody. And it looked like that dark journey was about to begin.

Konoe also was aware the tension between Tsuzuki and Hisoka was increasing. The partners were barely civil to each other. The Chief know Tsuzuki hated guns and Hisoka refused to give his up. "Perhaps it is time I intervened," he sighed. Then with a shrug, decided to postpone it until after this new case was solved.


	2. Sakura Seduction

Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei; all that wonderful creativity is the sole property of Yoko Matsushita.

Chapter 2: Sakura Seduction

The amethyst-eyed Guardian groaned as he turned on the shower, fumbling with the taps to adjust the water. _"Kuso, kuso, kuso, what a night,"_ he thought. Seemed like the team spent half the evening before going over reports. As usual, Hisoka finished his paperwork ahead of everyone else. When Tsuzuki asked for help, Hisoka snarled, "Finish it yourself," and stomped out, slamming the door but not before Tsuzuki heard him mutter "Baka."

That was when Tsuzuki grabbed at the invite from Tatsumi and Watari to go out for a nightcap. Now he was paying for it with a hangover that would fell Godzilla. _"Crap, no more drinking for me,"_ he resolved. When would he learn that he and alcohol were not best friends? But then his pounding head reminded him of that first morning after he met Hisoka. Was it merely a year ago? The boy was suffering from his first hangover from inadvertently drinking Tsuzuki's red wine. Man, he sure looked cute in the bright Nagasaki sunlight, holding his pounding head and snarling at Tsuzuki not to call him "kid".

Despite the crashing timpani making his head pound, Tsuzuki smiled as he remembered that first time Hisoka called Tsuzuki by his name. The boy's emerald eyes, so filled with pain, had lit up with delighted surprise at the simple gift of a cold drink. Tsuzuki's mind wandered, recalling bits and pieces of events made special because he was with Hisoka. Until he looked down in horror at his throbbing cock.

"Oh hell, no! By the Twelve Angry Gods, no!" Tsuzuki groaned as he angrily turned off the hot water. He stood beneath the freezing blast willing his erection to go away. He forced his mind onto the boring details needed for a long day of work ahead. He refused to touch himself. The cock finally gave in and wilted to its normal size.

But in its wake, his arousal left a quiver of fear in Tsuzuki's mind. He could not deny his feelings for Hisoka were more than platonic. His erotic fantasies about his partner were occurring more frequently. He tried to quell his lust by reminding himself of their age difference. He was twenty-six, Hisoka was sixteen. Then he started to laugh at this absurdity. He'd been twenty-six for more than seventy years and Hisoka would be sixteen forever. And between the two of them who was more mature, stable and responsible? Definitely the sixteen-year-old!

##

As he entered the Ministry, the sixteen-year-old was wondering for the hundredth time if he should just quit his job as a Guardian. He had discovered who his murderer was, and it hadn't changed a thing. He was tired of the training and becoming depressed. He knew he was a rarity among the Shinigami—he was born with his paranormal talents. The others had to train, sometimes for years, to develop theirs. Hisoka hated his powers.

He could sense people's emotions, cast energy barriers and had some control with a few of the lesser spells. Although he resented it, the training was beginning to strengthen his ability to block out the emotional clamor of others. As his shields grew stronger, he wasn't bludgeoned by the feelings of others—except Tsuzuki's. At first, he liked it when he allowed his partner's joy and ineffable silliness wash over him. He could ignore Tsuzuki's dark moods. It was a good trade off in order to experience the other man's unflappable optimism and childlike delight in things. He fed off Tsuzuki's moods and used them to lift him out of his perennial gloom. Then "those" other thoughts began to invade his mind, and he had to fight to keep his shields up against Tsuzuki's mind.

心

"Asato-san, I know Nagasaki is your territory, but because you've been slacking off more than usual lately with that filthy smoking habit, I'm sending you to Sendai," Konoe ordered. "While you're there, view the bodies and go over everything the police have on the two victims. And find those missing agents."

"But Sendai's nowhere near my district. Can't you send Yuma and Saya?" he grumbled still hung over.

"Don't give me any of your sniveling, Tsuzuki. Torii Yuma and Fukiya Saya are searching for two missing souls in Sapporo. Go find your partner for a final briefing before you leave."

"Sendai," Tsuzuki whined. Then a second later, his face lit up. "Hai, we're on it, boss. They have great robatayaki there!" He took off to find Hisoka.

As he wandered around the vast complex of Meifu looking for his partner, Tsuzuki's mood slid back into the dungeon again. He knew his jade-eyed partner would never be able to be a lighthearted innocent, Muraki had seen to that. But lately it seemed Hisoka was being consumed by an inner hatred that was dragging him further and further away from everyone.

The amethyst-eyed Guardian sighed and closed off his thoughts. _"Better find Hisoka before the Chief goes ballistic,"_ he thought. Usually the boy could be found tucked away in a corner of the library. Hisoka may not be diligent about magical practice, but he seemed to love the solitude surrounded by books. Gingerly, Tsuzuki stuck his head in the library door. It was as far into their sacred house of literature as the Gushoushin would allow him.

The lobby was filled to its high, arched ceiling with hundreds of crates. "Books, books, lovely precious books," The pair was flitting among the crates like a couple of birds on crack. The silly avian twins were effusively chortling in their gratitude. "Thank you Tatsumi-san! Thank you." they twittered. The penny-pinching secretary had finally approved funding for books for the reconstructed library. Reconstructed because Tsuzuki practically destroyed it for the second time a few months ago. Hence, Asato's permanent ban from the building. But this time, the twins were so ecstatic they allowed Tsuzuki one tiny step into their domain to ask if Hisoka was there. "No! Now get out!" both yelled in unison.

"He's somewhere outside then," Tsuzuki muttered. The sun was approaching its zenith, and a blush of light suffused the garden with a soft pink radiance. The blossoms from the sakura trees drifted down, and the air was redolent with their delicate scent.

Unconsciously, Tsuzuki pulled a cigarette from its pack with his lips. He lit it as he walked. He spotted Hisoka lying under his favorite sakura tree. Considering the boy was raped underneath this type of tree, Tsuzuki marveled that youth would come here to relax.

Hisoka had fallen asleep, one arm thrown over his head, his slim fingers slightly curled. An open book lay on his chest. A stray shaft of sunlight was filtering down between the tree branches. It lit the boy's face with a nimbus of golden light. The boy's lips were slightly parted showing the tips of perfect, white teeth. There was no tension in his face, just the sweet look of sleeping innocence. Part of Hisoka's shirt had rucked up revealing a creamy expanse of skin, the delicate belly button and a tantalizing curve of his hip just above the beltline.

Softly, Tsuzuki approached the recumbent form. He knelt down intending to wake his partner. He reached out to brush Hisoka's hair from his forehead, a gesture that echoed his first caress so long ago in Nagasaki.

The lust slammed through Tsuzuki with the impact of a freight train. He wanted to fasten his lips on Hisoka's soft mouth, plunder his cavern with his tongue and savor the taste of him. His mind saw his hand slide underneath the boy's jeans to stroke his shaft. The pads of his fingers tingled as he imagined slipping them further between the youth's thighs and delicately cupping the testicles. He wanted to feel Hisoka's member stir, and hear the boy moan with pleasure.

Horrified at his vision, Tsuzuki jerked back, dropping his cigarette. He dematerialized away from the sleeping youth and bolted back to the building. His cock was already hard. Gasping, almost out of breath with fear and shame, Tsuzuki slammed into his the small office he shared with his partner. He thrust the door closed and leaned over his desk, hyperventilating with fear.

Hisoka was an innocent! Underneath his bravado and cynicism was a youth who had never felt love, whose only intimate contact with another had been one of degradation, torture and rape. The closest person to Hisoka had been the one who murdered him. And now Tsuzuki lusted for him with a ferocious carnality that would murder the boy's spirit all over again.

Tsuzuki finally convinced himself nothing had happened. He attributed his hallucination in the garden to extreme stress and fatigue coupled with a massive hangover. He decided he'd mistaken Hisoka for a former lover. "No worries, just a case of mistaken identity," he muttered. He even managed to suppress his memory of his hard on in the shower that morning.

They were leaving for Sendai that evening. Although that meant being close to his partner for several days, Tsuzuki tried to pretend he wasn't worried about Hisoka's empathic ability to read his thoughts. Tsuzuki was a master of denial.

Robatayaki: Japanese-style barbecue


	3. Secrets from Sendai

Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei; all that wonderful creativity is the sole property of Yoko Matsushita.

Chapter 3: Secrets from Sendai

The two Guardians materialized in Sendai just as dusk was gathering. The weather was dismal, and a spring rain drenched them thoroughly. Tsuzuki immediately suggested they eat dinner. "I'm cold. Let's get some robatayaki," the ever-hungry older Guardian said with a wink.

"We just ate lunch. Can't you forget your stomach for one minute" Hisoka snarled. He was really irritated with his partner. He'd mysteriously found one of the man's still-smoldering cigarettes beside him when he awoke in the garden. He really hated the smell of cigarettes on his partner.

"That was hours ago," Tsuzuki whined trying to ignore the boy's attitude.

"Well, you go ahead," Hisoka said in a lackluster tone. "I'm tired, and we still have to find our hotel."

Tsuzuki gave in but when they found their hotel, both sighed in unison with dismay. It was a typical, Tatsumi-the-penny-pincher, low-budget-with-no-extras special. And of course, it was a single room with narrow twin futons. Hisoka groaned. Tsuzuki groaned even louder. "That tightwad Tatsumi, bet he never stays at a dump like this," the older man griped.

They sorted out their gear, or at least Hisoka sorted out his gear. He'd brought the ubiquitous backpack, crammed full of ammunition and cleaning supplies. Tsuzuki really wished he had least left the noxious solvents at home. You'd think anything made of steel could go a few days without a bath, he thought as he eyed the two weapons lying on Hisoka's bed.

Eventually, Hisoka agree to go out to eat, and they wandered the streets until they found an inexpensive restaurant that looked as if it had good food and no ptomaine. True to form, Tsuzuki ordered dinner and desert. He followed with a bottle of plum wine, his resolution not to drink ever again conveniently forgotten. Hisoka just ate a winter vegetable stew. Tsuzuki watched him with concern. The boy just picked at his food, clearly preoccupied, his face disconsolate and drawn.

When they got back to their room, Tsuzaki started to ask Hisoka if they could talk. The youth cut him off, muttering about wanting a shower and disappeared into the tiny bathroom.

With a sigh of frustration, Tsuzuki shook off his shoes and stretched out on the futon to think. He tried not to think of his partner standing naked beneath a shower a mere two meters away. He finally turned his thought to the case concentrating with effort. Pretty soon, he was snoring.

Hisoka came out of the tiny bathroom with a towel wrapped around his slim frame. His damp hair was tousled. He looked sadly at the blissfully sleeping Tsuzuki. Then he drew the blanket over his partner and went to his own bed. Life or rather death was getting too complicated, he thought as he tried to fall asleep. He was acutely aware that his partner slept a scant meter away, but considering how he felt, it might as well be kilometers.

心

The Sendai detective's distaste for Guardians was very evident and only after being ordered by his chief, did he reluctantly escort Tsuzuki and Hisoka to the morgue. Hisoka ignored the man who obviously showed nothing but disdain for someone so young acting in an official capacity.

The corpses were hideous. Their charred bodies reeked of decomposing meat and the flesh crumbled off in chunks. But the heads were beautifully intact. For a moment, Tsuzuki thought one young man was the missing Naotake, so close was the resemblance even to a small scar over Naotake's left eyebrow. The two Guardians read the notes from the officers who discovered the bodies. Tsuzuki noted the victims had been found in a church, a fact that had been left out of the reports sent to Meifu.

After the hostile detective escorted them from the morgue, Tsuzuki suggested they visit the church. He figured they were following the logical steps of their fellow Guardians, Akihito and Naotake. Perhaps they could find out more or Hisoka could use his empathy to sense something from anyone in the vicinity.

The church sat at the end of a small, narrow street. The neighborhood was in a state of decay, and many of the dilapidated homes were abandoned. The stone building was decrepit with dying kudzu vines choking its windows and granite walls. Its double iron gates sagged on their hinges and rust bled through the chipped paint. The surrounding graveyard was choked by weeds and over-shadowed by massive, ancient Ginko trees. It was obvious no one visited the dead here for a very long time.

"I think this church was built by English missionaries about ninety years ago," Tsuzuki said. "But it's clearly abandoned now." He shivered with a strange sense of déjà vu as he looked up at the tall spire with its metal cross on top.

They silently entered the dark building. The hall was devoid of any pews or other furniture except for a large stone baptismal font. According to reports, both bodies were found in the nave crumpled at the base of the font. Strangely, there were no burn marks on any surface; the bodies were consumed without the fire affecting anything else.

Their footsteps echoed with hollow clocking sounds. Hisoka wandered over to a small apse on the east side of the hall. Suddenly, with a hiss, an apparition in white stepped from around a pillar. The man flicked his fingers in the direction of Hisoka, spitting out his invocation. Startled, the youth stepped back but tripped. In an instant, something black and vile landed on him its long teeth biting into the boy's shoulder. Hisoka screamed.

Tsuzuki jerked a fuda from his pocket. "Repel!" he cried and flung the scrap at the thrashing pair. The blast of energy knocked the creature back. Hisoka kick it hard in the gut. It slammed into the wall before turning and snarling at Tsuzuki. Its vitriolic hate made its demonic visage all the more hideous. Then it fled out the door and into the graveyard. Hisoka scrambled up, gun drawn searching not for the black demon but the creature he saw for a second commanding it, the creature in white—the creature known as Muraki!

"Hisoka, the graveyard!" Tsuzuki yelled as he ran out the broken door. Hisoka obeyed, following his partner into gloom. But they could see nothing. The heavy rain clouds overhead shed little light, and the graveyard was completely shrouded by trees. "Come on, its got to be somewhere around here," Tsuzuki said. Cautiously, the two began to search along the rows of grave markers.

Hisoka's shoulder began to throb and something warm trickle inside his jacket. He looked at his torn jacket. _"Damn thing bit me. At least it isn't my gun arm," _he thought, and hefted the Beretta for good measure. As he looked up from his torn sleeve, he saw movement off to his right. The black shadow materialized into form and movement. Hisoka raised the firearm and in a fury emptied the entire magazine, reloaded and fired again.

"Soka, wait!" Tsuzuki yelled. But it was too late; the creature disappeared into the night. And Hisoka had done nothing but demolish the headstone of one Benjamin Forthwaite, born 1869, died 1917. They searched the grounds. A tiny glint in the grass caught Tsuzuki's eye. It was a thin hypodermic. He slipped it into his pocket. Maybe it was significant, maybe just left behind by a homeless addict.

"Tsuzuki, Muraki was there, I saw him," Hisoka said with a snarl. "It was him ordering that thing to attack us." He was shaking but absolutely resolute in his conviction.

心

When they returned to Meifu, they were discouraged and frustrated. They'd found no additional clues to the disappearance of Naotake and Akihito. And they had let two creatures get away. The partners were greeted with more bad news. Saya and Yuma had not reported in. Chief Konoe's bellow of rage could be heard all over the Ministry when he got the report. But underneath the Chief's anger, the Shinigami could hear a tremor of fear.

Watari tested the hypodermic. It contained ketamine, a powerful horse tranquilizer. But its molecules were augmented with supernatural properties that made the drug extremely potent "This can completely and instantly incapacitate a Guardian," Watari said somberly.

Tsuzuki gave his report and mentioned how uncannily one of the victims looked like Naotake. When Hisoka delivered his summary, he stunned them all by insisting he saw Muraki. No one doubted the youth. His connection with the doctor was so intense, so intimate, they knew he was right. But what was the malevolent bastard up to now?


	4. A Night at the Opera

Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei, all that wonderful creativity is the sole property of Yoko Matsushita.

Chapter 4: A Night at the Opera

"Hey, Hisoka, want to see the Phantom of the Opera with me?" Tsuzuki beamed as he waggled the two tickets between his fingers much like he would hold a fuda. The opera was playing at the New National Theater in Tokyo. He was hoping a night out would ease the tension between them.

"Opera?" Hisoka almost sneered. "Opera, that's for wimps and sissies, and maybe Watari."

"No, it's a beautiful story, it's not like you think. I know we're growing apa …" Tsuzuki stumbled. "It's been a long time since we did anything fun. And we really worked hard in Sendai. Remember, all work and no play?" He babbled out his spiel as he waved the tickets in the air. He had one of his goofy grins plastered on his face in an effort to entice his partner.

"Very well," mumbled Hisoka. "When?" He hated the distance between them, hated even more its reason. Perhaps going to the opera—mentally he said it with a sneer—would ameliorate it somewhat.

"It's tonight. But it's formal, so you have to wear a suite," he winked at the younger Shinigami.

"A suite, you said nothing about wearing a suite. I don't do suites! I'm so outa here!" the youth yelled. Hisoka's anger washed over Tsuzuki who regarded the youth with show of disappointment. That look was enough to make Hisoka relent. He was feeling guilty for being the one making his partner unhappy.

"Okay, I'll go," he said reluctantly. Then he smiled with the quick realization he could easily get out of the situation. "But if you say it's formal, where am I supposed to get a suite this late?"

"Oh we have a store here in the basement. I'm sure we will find something."

"Store, why'd I never heard of it? Store, like with clothes and stuff?" Hisoka's dumbfounded look cracked Tsuzuki up. His laughter did nothing but add to the boy's confusion.

"Come on," Tsuzuki said as he led the youth through the Ministry's labyrinth of corridors and down the stairs to a lower level. Dramatically, he flung open the door to the basement store. It was filled with displays of clothes and merchandise. The wizen clerk trotted over eager to serve.

"We need a suite," Tsuzuki announced before plunging into the racks, humming a silly pointless tune as he pushed suite after suite aside in search of the right size. "Ah ha, here this should do," he crowed. He yanked a grey Valentino off the rack. It was complete with a crisp white shirt and a tie with small stripes the same color as Hisoka's jade eyes. "We'll find some shoes around here too," Tsuzuki said in what could only be described as a disgustingly cheerful tone as the small clerk rummaged around the shoe display. The clerk proudly held up a pair. It was obvious he'd accurately guessed Hisoka's size.

"_I'm so screwed,"_ Hisoka thought.

Tsuzuki pushed the garments and shoes into the youth's arms, and shoved the boy in the direction of the changing rooms. "Try everything on, see if it all fits." he ordered.

A few minutes later, Hisoka stood before his partner, a deep flush suffusing his face. "How ridiculous," he said to himself. "I look like an idiot." He was too embarrassed even to look in the mirror. He glared up into Tsuzuki's twinkling amethyst eyes as the Guardian knotted his tie for him.

"How the hell do I pay for this," Hisoka mumbled. He hoped the problem of payment might get him out of having to wear this silly outfit.

"No worries, I'll charge it," Tsuzuki said airily with a wink and dismissive wave of his hand.

The door had slammed open and Watari barged in. He stopped to stare with amazement at Hisoka. ""Wow, you look smashing! Really G-Q. Boy, you are so hot," he lilted with a lecherous smile on his goofy face.

Hisoka flushed again, darker this time. "Shut up!" he yelled.

Watari and Tsuzuki winked at each other. There was smug look plastered over Tsuzuki's face, and an admiring grin on Watari's. Both men thought the youth looked very sharp and adorably sexy.

"Where are you two going?" Watari asked.

"Phantom," Tsuzuki said.

"Oh, the Phantom," lilted Watari, "You'll love it." With that, he breezed out with his long blond tresses and white coat tails flapping madly. He'd obviously forgotten the reason for visiting the store.

"Oh, the Phantom!" sneered Hisoka. "Why do I think it is going to be beyond ridiculous?"

"Hey, partner, give it a chance. The Phantom is an amazing story, nothing like you would think."

With a sigh, Hisoka acquiesced. His shoulders slumped as he headed back to the change room. "What time shall we meet?" he called over his shoulder.

"I'll pick you up; I've wangled taxi fare from Tatsumi. And we can get desert first," Tsuzuki called. "Oh, and Hisoka can you leave your gun at home?'

"Yeah, Ok, I'll leave 'em home." Hisoka reluctantly said.

"_Them?"_ Tsuzuki thought. _"So he's carrying both now."_ He felt disappointed.

##

When they arrived at the theater, Hisoka froze awestruck by its opulence. His cynical façade melted. Tsuzuki looked at the boy's face and felt a stab of poignant regret that Hisoka had probably never been to a movie much less a concert hall. The older Guardian's amusement at the boy squirming against the confines of the new suite promptly vanished in a swell of compassion. He wanted to take his partner in his arms and whisper against his neck that it would be all right. Instead, he resolutely marched up to the concierge and handed over their tickets.

The minute the curtain came up and the orchestra began its opening strains, Hisoka was enraptured. He eagerly leaned forward to see the production better. Tsuzuki was delighted. It would be a good night for both of them.

The lavish costumes and stage sets delighted Hisoka. The sensory feast was so alien to him that he relaxed his shields and opened himself fully to the sensuality of the music. Suddenly, the Phantom flowed onto the stage resplendently disguised as Red Death. He began to weave his insidious dance to entrap his beloved Christine. Hisoka's body went rigid as he watched the Phantom bewitch the object of his obsession. Tsuzuki, always aware of the nuances of Hisoka's emotions, gently placed his hand over the teen's. "It's OK, it's just make believe," he whispered. Hisoka relaxed as the magic of the play again engulfed him.

Hisoka's hand nestled warm and trusting in Tsuzuki's. Neither wanted to break the magical bond woven around them by the music. As the second act began, Tsuzuki placed his arm around Hisoka's shoulders. He felt the youth tremble a little as he leaned his head against Tsuzuki's shoulder. The boy gave a soft "woof" of a sigh. Tsuzuki hand trailed over the youth's neck, and he stroked the soft, wheat colored hair. His index finger slipped down to describe little whorls in the soft skin beneath the boy's jaw. Hisoka responded by snuggling closer and moved their enjoined hands up Tsuzuki's thigh to rest just below the groin. With apprehension, Tsuzuki felt his member stir. He prayed Hisoka would not notice.

Hisoka lifted his face to look Tsuzuki in the eyes. "Tsuzuki, kiss me, please?" the youth shyly asked. His huge, puppy-dog eyes glimmered with tears.

"Soka-kun, are you sure?" Tsuzuki was trembling.

A searing flush of joy ripped through the older Guardian's body at Hisoka's almost imperceptible nod. He turned the youth's face to him and delicately kissed his mouth. His lips pressed harder onto Hisoka's mouth as he slid his tongue against the pliant lips. An intense flood of lust engulfed him as Hisoka gave him permission to enter. The fierce incandesce of desire that ripped through Tsuzuki robbed him of breath.

Tsuzuki's body raged as slid his tongue over Hisoka's teeth and explored the moist warm cavern. He tasted honey and almonds. He smelled the musk of arousal flush Hisoka's skin. His organ flowered with desire and crowded against his trousers. Then Tsuzuki felt Hisoka's hand move over the bulge of Tsuzuki's shaft. The boy was groping, wanting to feel his partner's cock, its hardness, the length of it, the heat of it. Tsuzuki shifted his hips upward a fraction subtly begging the boy to massage his ache. Neither wanted to remove his mouth from the sweet nectar of the other's. Their breath came in short gasps, and their fire caused a fine sheen of sweat over Tsuzuki's brow. Hisoka mewled softly as he pulled Tsuzuki's hand over his own groin.

A roar of applause shattered the moment between the two Guardians. Abruptly, the audience stood. Shouts of "bravo, bravo," and other accolades shocked Tsuzuki out of the dream. The real world came crashing in. His face flamed with embarrassment. Instinctively, he moved to push Hisoka out of their embrace. But Hisoka wasn't in his arms, had never been in his arms. The youth was standing facing his partner, his face suffused with rage. "Hisoka, I'm …. " Tsuzuki stammered, ever so grateful the lights hadn't come up yet. The bulge in his trousers was excruciating and very obvious.

"Baka!" Hisoka snarled. "You idiot!" Then he bolted, shoving his way roughly along the aisle to disappear out of the theater.

Tsuzuki ran after him, pushing people aside with unacceptable rudeness. He raced through the revolving glass doors and onto the sidewalk. However, there was no sight of the teen. "Shit," Tsuzuki said, and unthinkingly dematerialized in front of several overly dressed and totally started theater patrons.

At home, Tsuzuki stomach roiled with nausea. How could he be so stupid? He thought he'd bridled his lascivious feelings for Hisoka. He thumped his head with his fist. "Baka, baka, baka!" he groaned. He was his partner and protector and nothing more. He convinced himself he'd hidden his desire from Hisoka while they were in Sendai. Now, this idiotic daydream had revealed all. Clearly, it had shocked and repelled the youth.

The older Shinigami knew without doubt that Hisoka's empathy had picked up the full carnal fantasy in digicolor and probably Dolby surround sound. Shit! Shit! Shit! How was he going to work with his partner after this?

Tsuzuki was always afraid of losing Hisoka's trust. That tentative first move made in Kyoto, and the boy's desperate cry to stay for him bonded them forever. It did not guarantee that the trust could never be broken. Did not guarantee that distance would never come between them; did not guarantee they would even be happy. And now his insane trip down lascivious lane will rip them apart for good. He needed his partner to trust him. But Tsuzuki had no idea what to say or do to convince him he can be trusted.

"_I'll just have to try to get him to understand, I don't mean anything by it,"_ Tsuzuki resolved. As much as he hated conflict and all its painful consequences, he had to persuade Hisoka it was all a mistake. But he already feared it was too late.


	5. Armed and Dangerous

Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei; all that wonderful creativity is the sole property of Yoko Matsushita.

Confession of an anime junkie: This chapter was actually my original story but it sorta grew. The scene with Hisoka blasting Muraki's pentacle with his Beretta (gun confirmed in the manga) seared itself into my sleep-deprived brain. I had to explore the boy's relationship with guns. ^-^ And all information about firearms in this story is accurate; I own most of them including the Beretta.

Chapter 5: Armed and Dangerous

Hisoka was determined to forget "those" thoughts coming from Tsuzuki last night. In the privacy of his little apartment, he eagerly opened the heavy box. A hundred rounds of the rare Black Talons nestled inside. He'd blown almost three week's salary on the ammunition from a black-market arms dealer. But they were worth every yen. The jacketed, hollow-point bullets are designed to expand into sharp edges on impact. Called "cop killers," the bullets will rip through flesh and bone, tumbling and splintering to tear the guts out of anything or anyone they hit. Hisoka loved their power.

Love, what a complication! He'd counted on the pain and sorrow that went along with becoming a Guardian. What he hadn't counted on was falling in love. Every time he thought of Tsuzuki, his heart would race foolishly and the lower parts of him throbbed. But he knew he'd never have the nerve to tell him how he felt. The memory of Tsuzuki's fantasy kiss burned across his lips. He'd called him an idiot last night when he really wanted to bury himself in the man's arms.

As Hisoka automatically loaded his practice rounds, images of Tsuzuki plagued him. The man's addiction to sweets. The way his chocolate-brown hair fell in an untidy heap over his amethyst eyes. Hisoka could drown in those eyes! Tsuzuki had said his eyes meant he wasn't human, but Hisoka thought they were one of the most beautiful parts of him. And thanks to Watari's clothes-ripping intervention a few months ago, Hisoka had seen all the parts of his partner.

Then last night the dream came back. It had been haunting his sleep so often lately. Every time he had to thicken the psychic wall between himself and Tsuzuki, he remembered the dream. It was always vivid, always stark in its detail. It never varied in the order of its events.

It was raining hard, and the night wind drove harsh rivulets of cold water against the windows. They were still at the Nagasaki hotel recovering from that horrendous battle with Muraki. A presence entered his small room. It barely disturbed the stillness of the air as it moved softly, carefully toward the futon. Hisoka sensed no malice. He felt trust and affection and concern emanating from the man. He was asleep in his dream but struggled to wake.

The mattress sagged slightly as the man quietly sat beside him. Hisoka's drowsed eyes refused to open. He felt gentle fingers brush his hair back from his hot brow. He desperately tried to turn his head to see the man, to say something to him. A light kiss caressed his forehead. The gesture was so unknown, so alien to the rejected boy. Another gentle touch of lips against each cheek. Then the soft lips pressed delicately onto his, lingered before brushing each corner of his mouth.

"Get well soon, partner," the sacrament was whispered softly. Hisoka felt his tears slide from under his closed lids to trickle softly down his cheek. And he knew it wasn't a dream.

##

Sunday was their day off and the Shinigami went their separate ways. Sunday was the day Hisoka devoted to the range. The club was his refuge. When he was on the range, he forgot about the Agency; forgot about the nightmare that drove him to become a Guardian; forgot about everything except the clean, pleasure of shooting.

He set up his silhouette targets at 30-meters and usually burned through five or six of them in a session. His routine was well established. First, his favorite, the Beretta, a rare firearm in Japan since it held sixteen rounds. The gun's spring had been lightened and needed only slight pressure on the trigger. Then the .38 short-barrel. It only held five rounds, but he practiced diligently anyway.

The youth was completely unaware of the fear he caused the other club patrons. His groupings were always dead-centered heart or brain. But it was his fierce concentration that made them know this was not just a boy indulging in a hobby. He never realized when he aimed at the silhouettes, a red haze of fury clouded his mind. A strange amnesia took over the boy when he went into this zone. He never knew his hated enemy was always there with him. Muraki possessed him as effectively as he possessed the boy's body on that hideous night of rape and murder.

Hisoka stance was that of seasoned warrior; legs braced slightly apart, eyes seeing only the target. He would rapid fire all his rounds into the target in seconds, drop the magazine and snap in another in one smooth move. The visage of hatred scarred his young face and aged him by years. He frightened off more than one so-called marksman from ever wanting to chat him up.

心

That night, alone in his small apartment, Hisoka lay scrunched up in misery on his futon, his mind asking over and over, "_What's wrong with me?"_ He knew he was a freak. He thought about Watari who was so flamboyantly out-of-the-closet bisexual. The scientist flirted outrageously with everyone, male or female. The whole department looked on in malicious glee when he made Tatsumi squirm by pretending to hit on him. The stern secretary would try to ignore the blonde's innuendos every time. But inevitably, he blushed with embarrassment, grunted "Harrumph," before removing and polishing his glasses to gain his composure. But Watari never flirted with Hisoka.

The youth didn't want Watari, he didn't want any man. But he yearned for Tsuzuki! Everyone in the Bureau thought Tsuzuki and Tatsumi were more than partners eons ago. However, Hisoka had never seen a hint his partner was involved with anyone. Tsuzuki just loved everyone! He was oblivious to the lustful or longing looks he got from men and women when he was in the human world. The older Guardian had no freaking idea the impact his gorgeous looks and amethyst eyes had on people. He was singularly unaware how one glance from him, a quick smile, a cheerful wink, often left them weak in the knees and wet between the thighs. There were many times though, Hisoka's empathy put him on the receiving end of those hot, embarrassing thoughts.

In the darkness when the witching hour was upon him, he could not deny his desires for Tsuzuki. His yearning mind conjured up images of the man's chocolate-brown hair as it hung over his eyes. Hisoka wondered what it would be like comb his fingers through its softness. He dreamed of the sensation of pressing his lips to his partner's, imagined the taste when he slipped his tongue into that warm cavern. His cock hardened as he thought of Tsuzuki's hand caressing his organ. He wondered for the hundredth how it would feel slide his hand along the length of Tsuzuki's member; to make it hard and feel it throb just as he was at that moment. His lips burned to suck on his partner's cock. There were many nights when the teen relieved himself, and always as he ejaculated, he cried out Tsuzuki's name. His dreams were of long limbs and amethyst eyes. And too often, he awoke with the sheets damp and sticky with the white proof of his need

His secret desires spiraled Hisoka deeper into the chaos of confusion, misery and self-loathing. There was something sick with him. Sick because he burned for Tsuzuki and sick because he shuddered in horror at thoughts of being touched by anyone. But he wanted to give himself completely to Tsuzuki. The conflict of need and fear threatened his very sanity. He had to get away from his partner!

##

Lack of sleep made Hisoka bleary eyed and dull throughout the next day at the office. He'd gone to the washroom when Tsuzuki trailed in after him. _"I'll have to talk to now,"_ Tsuzuki thought. _"We won't be effective with this case if he is angry with me all the time."_

"Hey, can't a guy get any privacy around here!" Hisoka yelled. He was standing at the urinal, his face flamed red. Hurriedly, he zipped up. "What the hell are you doing, Tsuzuki, following me in here when I gotta pee?"

"We have to talk," said Tsuzuki. "Hisoka, I am so sorry for my inappropriate thoughts the other night. It was inexcusable, a … a… terrible mistake. I just don't know what to say." He stammered his apology and desperately hoped the boy would understand and forgive. "Please, Hisoka, we have to work this out. Like I told you when we first met, if we don't do our jobs, people get hurt. And we certainly can't protect each other with something like this between us."

Misery suffused Hisoka's face. He looked down at the white floor tiles, jamming his hands in his pockets. Slowly he looked up into Tsuzuki's amethyst eyes, the jade green orbs melted for a tiny second then froze hard again. "I can't work with you anymore Tsuzuki. It's not that I don't want to, I just can't. As soon as we finish this case, we need to find new partners."

Tsuzuki reeled back in shock, his eyes wide and afraid. "But why? What have I done?" he wailed.

"I don't want to talk about it, just ask Chief Konoe to find you another partner." With that, the youth quietly left the bathroom.

Tsuzuki stood there, his lungs locked up, his breath frozen. With an ungainly lurch, he barely made it to the sink before the bile and breakfast came up in one sickening heave. Even as he emptied his stomach, he wept, his tears sliding down his cheeks to mix with the mess in the sink. Hisoka, his partner, had rejected him.

When the sobbing ceased, Tsuzuki cleaned himself off and rinsed his mouth. He drew himself up with stiff resolve. "Very well, if that is what the kid wants, I am not one to force him. I'll go speak to the Chief." His footsteps were slow and leadened as he automatically made his way to Konoe's office.

"Tsuzuki, you want what? Oh, it's Hisoka's request is it? Why doesn't Hisoka ask me himself? Why, because I will fucking well say no. You've gone and pissed off another partner, you moron. What do you think, Shinigami just fall from trees like cherry blossoms? We only select a few out of the tiny number of souls who even ask. It was a long time between selections, and Hisoka was just at the right time and right place." This entire monologue came pouring from Konoe's bombastic lips almost before Tsuzuki had finished stuttering out Hisoka's request.

"No, absolutely no," Konoe growled. "Hisoka hasn't been with us long enough to ask for a transfer. You will work out your shit with your partner, and I will not hear another bloody word about it." His voice rose another octave as he bellowed, "Transfer partners my ass. You are lucky I don't fire you!"

"Fire me! I was only bringing Hisoka's request to you. I don't know why he wants out." A flash of incredible pain crossed Tsuzuki's face. "I'm just the messenger," he stuttered.

Chastened, Tsuzuki left the Chief's office. He sighed and resolved that no matter what, he and Hisoka would be efficient partners. He'd ignore the boy's attitude and quash his own feelings. He knew he'd fallen in love with the boy, and he thought Hisoka cared for him. He regretted not for one second his decision to stay and not cross into the Afterlife on that fire-filled night in Kyoto. Hell, even a minute around Hisoka in his foulest mood was better than the best-ever desert. But lancing into Tsuzuki's mind was the certainty that he couldn't lose Hisoka, _"I will die without him."_


	6. Cherchez Les Âmes

Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei; all that wonderful creativity is the sole property of Yoko Matsushita.

More confessions: I love Tatsumi. So I am adding bits to his character that are not in the canon. Bet ya didn't know Tatsumi speaks French fluently. Pretty sexy huh? Oh, and obviously Muraki too, and but he's too evil to be sexy. There are hints of a Tatsumi/Watari relationship … but that's for another story ^-^ grins.

Chapter 6: Cherchez Les Âmes

Never in the entire history of the Ministry had five agents vanished. Kannuki Wakaba had not reported for work yesterday. She was last seen entering a flower shop. Then she was gone. Despite his apparent antipathy toward her, her partner Terazuma, was tearing the place apart in his rage.

No power used by the Ministry could find them. Dozens of spells for giving chase were cast forth to seek any trace of the missing Shinigami. The spells returned spent and hollow. Some Shinigami were afraid the bodies of the Guardians had been destroyed. But if so, where were their souls? Anger permeated the Ministry's Summons Division. Anger and fear. The Count petitioned to the highest possible source of power—The King of Hades. But it was to no avail; even he could not find a trace of his Guardians of Death. What metaphysical power was strong enough to shield their souls even from the King of Hades?

##

The elegant cream-colored letter had mysteriously appeared at the main desk in the lobby of the Summons Department. It was simply addressed to Asato Tsuzuki. The azure-eyed Guardian opened the envelope and extracted a single page. He looked at it then wordlessly handed it to Chief Konoe. The chief examined it on both sides, a puzzled frown further creasing his grizzled features. "What the hell does this mean? I don't understand a single word!" he barked. "Looks like one of those fancy invitations from the Count. Take a look." He passed the card to his secretary.

Implacably, Tatsumi perused the elegantly embossed inscription. "It's French," he said. He adjusted his glasses before reading aloud, _"Trouvez la rose de la reine dans le petit bois, Cherchez le 'âmes_ _en peine parmi les vivantes." _

He translated. "Find the Queen's rose in the small woods. Seek the souls in torment among the living," then looked up at his colleagues. "It's signed with a letter M." he said as with a deliberate motion he carefully placed the puzzling message on the table.

"Muraki!" Hisoka growled leaping out of his seat. "The sick bastard was here in Meifu?"

The Guardians looked at one another in stunned silence. They could not believe Muraki had entered Meifu unseen and unsensed. The monster had invaded their sanctuary. And was taunting them with a cryptic message.

"This makes no sense," Konoe growled "Think, people, what do we know about that son of a bitch? What is he trying to tell us?"

"Muraki has a thing for queens …. er ... Queen Elizabeth roses. Those are the kind of roses he tried to sedu … bribe me with last year on the ship." Tsuzuki said clenching both fists on the table. Sadly, he had the most knowledge about the man. "He's a doctor and necromancer. He has power over the dead, like when he resurrected Maria Wong as a vampire. In addition, he can bind us and command dragons, which takes an incredible amount of power."

"And yeah, we know he's all about seeking death," snarled Hisoka. "Ours."

To the Guardians, the taunting letter proved Muraki was definitely connected with the stolen souls of the murder victims. Obviously, he was controlling the one in Sendai that attacked Hisoka. "This would make one conclude he is the perpetrator behind the serial murders to collect souls," Gushoushin observed. "I don't believe in coincidences. Somehow, he knew you would be at that church, Mr. Tsuzuki. And he was waiting for you."

"I don't think he's really human. Well, certainly not fully human," Tatsumi said pushing his glasses up his nose for the fifth time. "He's baiting us with these leads. If this quote _en Français_ is a clue, what is he really saying, what is his objective? Is he trying to lure us somewhere?"

"Where ever this lead is pointing, it has to be a trap," Watari remarked looking at Tatsumi. In that same instant, several irreverent thoughts fired through his brain. _"Wow, Tatsumi speaks French. Really turns me on. But he's such a tight ass. He really needs a good shagging. So, maybe I should be the one to do it!" _With a dismissive shake of his blond head, he brought his mind back to the crisis facing them.

"You know, the first time I met Muraki he was praying in a Catholic church." Tsuzuki mused. "He drew me back to it after he kidnapped Hisoka. He also channeled the energy of another church to focus the spell to bind me when I caught Maria. And the bodies in Sendai were found in a church. He seems to have a thing for Christian places of worship. But what are the small woods?"

"Wait, that's it!" Gushoushin crowed. He flew over to a terminal, his little nails clicking rapidly, "Yes, yes, yes," he muttered to himself. "Umm, no, no, umm, maybe, yes," Fingers taping, taping, tapping.

Tsuzuki looked on a little confused. "Huh, did I say something helpful?" his expression seemed to say.

"Yes what?" Konoe finally barked. "What the hell are you looking for?"

Proudly, Gushoushin spun the flat screen around so it faced the team. "Look, Our Lady of the Rose Wood. It's a Catholic church just outside Sakura City. It's near the Kensai Rose Garden."

"You sure?" Tatsumi asked. "There must be hundreds of churches in Japan, and we don't even know if he was referring to a church in the first place."

"Well, it is the best lead we have so far," Konoe said. He pointed to Tsuzuki and Hisoka as he ordered Tatsumi check the place out. "Oh, and Terazuma go with them, you deserve to be on this case. This church is still in use, so please be careful. We don't want any civilians getting hurt. And Tsuzuki, try not to destroy anything," he cautioned.

##

"Creepy place if you ask me," Hisoka said as they stood outside the massive church in the pouring rain. Its dome roof almost resembled a basilica. "Why do they build them so big," he asked rhetorically.

"Well, at least there are no services going on right now. No people about," Terazuma remarked as his eyes flickered angrily about.

"Tsuzuki, put that cigarette out," Tatsumi ordered. "Don't you know they're bad for you. And a total waste of money?"

Tsuzuki groaned but complied. Then the team entered the building through a side door. Terazuma and Tatsumi went first; Hisoka drew the Berretta before following them. Tsuzuki entered last to back them up. The macabre scene that greeted froze them with horror.

The tableau embodied the cesspool of evil that was Muraki's mind. Wakaba stood beside the alter, imprisoned up to her neck in a raging column of blue fire. Her mouth was wide open but they couldn't hear her screams over the roar of the flames. She did not know they were there; her eyes had been gouged out. And a dozen voracious spirits, soul defilers, swirled around her waiting for her spirit to leave its fragmented shell.

"Wakaba!" Terazuma bellowed and charged at the doctor, arms flinging an attack fuda. With an indifferent snap of his fingers, the doctor's spell slammed the raging Shinigami to the floor breaking both legs. As Terazuma groggily struggled to rise, the other three Guardians moved in. Tatsumi raised his palm to cast his shadows over Wakaba and pull her from the pillar of flame. Tsuzuki flung a fuda for the spell to immobilize at Muraki to no avail.

Chaos erupted throughout the hall as the dozen soul defilers converged on the Guardians. Tatsumi unleashed the full range of his shadow power on them but it ineffectually broke apart on the black creatures. Over and over, the blue-eyed shadow shifter cast his attack. Sweat rolled down his face with the effort. Tsuzuki matched his onslaught with his own power, flinging dozens of fudas with the power to disintegrate at the defilers. Hisoka fired an entire magazine of Black Talons at the roiling cloud of creatures, but they went through them and ricocheted off the stone walls. Every Shinigami ducked as rounds bounced toward them. "Merde, Hisoka, cease fire!" Tatsumi bellowed.

But Hisoka wasn't listening. He saw Muraki and swiveled around to sight the Beretta on his hated enemy. The silver-eyed doctor smirked as he saw the gun in the boy's hand. "Still playing with toys are we, pretty boy?" he leered. Then he calmly raised his hand and casually snapped his fingers. In an immense blast of energy, his avatar demon ripped through a tear in the thin layer separating the dimensions, its unholy birth into the mundane world fueling its hate.

The monster was massive, at least thirty meters long. Although reptilian in appearance, its head was a hideous parody of a human skull. The mouth was elongated and distorted to accommodate four jagged fangs protruded from the upper jaw to just below the chin. A thick, bifurcated tongue lashed from side to side. The eye sockets were empty craters. A crenellation of needles lined its back, and all four limbs ended in razor-tipped claws the color of dried blood. Its iridescent yellow skin was coated with pustules, and poisonous ichor coruscated off its body.

The demon launched itself at the Guardians with fury and hate. Its forked tongue, fully three meters long, lashed at the three men. Great slimy ropes of venom sprayed over them. With each gout, a choking putrescence filled the hall.

"Hisoka, defend!" Tsuzaki ordered. Immediately, the boy cast a dome of protection over the Guardians. Tsuzuki stilled his body, formed his fingers into the Uttarabodhi mudra and intoned, "I bow to Thee and beseech You, by the Twelve Gods that protect me, appear before me. Come out Kurikara!"

In a corona of brilliant fire, the massive steel dragon roared from the Imaginary World to defend his master. "Attack!" commanded Tsuzuki. Kurikara screamed and launched himself at Muraki's avatar. The Shiki and the demon struck each other with a massive explosion, locking their jaws round each other's bodies. Kurikara went berserk. He sang in fury as he tore huge chunks of living matter from the demon. They ripped into each other with fire, fangs and claws, gouging massive hunks of flesh and energy from each other's body. Their mystical powers engulfed the Guardians. But it became clear very quickly that the gargantuan creatures were not evenly matched. Muraki's demon was fueled by an unknown but infinite power. Kurikara was beginning to lose the fight.

At the same moment the monsters clashed, Muraki looked directly at the Hisoka and smiled lasciviously. The sight of the doctor's smirking face sent the youth into an uncontrollable rage. He braced his legs and fired over and over at the doctor. The bullets ricocheted impotently off Muraki's psychic shield. Smoke from the gun barrel almost obscured the youth's view of Muraki. The choking smell of cordite added to the nauseating stench of Wakaba's cooking flesh.

The man in white started laughing.

The laugh triggered a primordial rage from deep within Hisoka's mind. Instinctively, he coiled his shielding power into a huge ball and flung it at Muraki. The doctor deflected the powerful spell with a wave of his hand. The massive force collided with the energies of the two fighting demons. The forces exploded in an incandescent maelstrom. Everyone was slammed to the floor, the incredible noise rendering them almost insensible. The explosive power of the mystical energies could not be contained. With the force of an atomic bomb, it sundered the building, tearing it into giant fragments. Stained-glass windows blew out in a multi-hued shower of glass. Deep fissures raced across the granite floor. The stone walls began to crumple, columns buckled, and the ribs supporting the vaulted ceiling split. Massive chunks of marble began to cascade down on them as the roof imploded. The air was filled with a suffocating mix of smoke, dust cooked meat and cordite.

Muraki's demon convulsed and bellowed in fury. Its tongue lashed out spewing gouts of ichor as it withdrew through the boiling dimensional gap into its own dimension. Hisoka tried to throw up a shield, but at the last possible second, the demon managed to splash him with its poison. As his avatar disappeared, so did Muraki.

Kurikara screamed his frustration at the loss of his enemy. He swung to attack Tsuzuki. The Guardian raised himself to his knees both arms up to channel as much power as he could to control the insane Shiki. With the last of his spiritual energy, Tsuzuki forced the giant black dragon back to the Imaginary World.

Then the roof crashed in. As the massive stone blocks hit the floor, Tatsumi enveloped his team in his shadow power and snatched them into the churchyard. All except Terazuma. He lay crushed beneath tons of granite. And Wakaba had vanished, consumed by roaring tower of blue flame.

They lay panting and dazed on the dew-covered grass. Hisoka was unconscious. Tsuzuki tried to stand but collapsed. He suddenly became aware that Terazuma was missing. Tatsumi sat doubled over clutching his chest. At the last second, the shadow shifter had managed to capture one of the soul defilers. It writhed beside the group in the envelope of dark power, mouth agape, soundlessly screeching its rage. No matter how it thrashed around, it was cocooned in the cloying black mist of Tatsumi's spell.

Gushoushin popped out of the air his mouth agape, twittering with fear. He immediately sensed the deaths of Terazuma and Wakaba. His eyes went huge with fright and grief.

"I will take the prisoner to Meifu," Tatsumi said in a strangled voice. He was spent. He could not transport all of them any further. The man's face was contorted with pain, and tears flowed down his cheeks. "Can you take care of Hisoka?"

Tsuzuki wrapped his arms around the unconscious boy's waist to teleport them. The Beretta dropped from the boy's nerveless fingers.

"Grab his piece!" Gushoushin shouted.

"His what!" Tsuzaki grunted in a daze. _"Grab the boy's penis?"_

"His gun, you baka," the librarian screamed again.

Tsuzaki snatched up the gun as he wrapped. "I can't fly to Meifu. Don't have the strength," Tsuzuki gasped. There was a searing pain across his chest, he couldn't breath. He managed to lift the two of them into the air. "My house," he gasped.

Merde: (French) shit

Baka: (Japanese) Idiot

Uttarabodhi mudra: Buddhist hand position to call upon a god; Sanskrit word for the mudra Tsuzuki uses to evoke a Shiki.

##

Fans Thanks for the reviews. I too am a bit disappointed there aren't more. That also happened the first time I posted this story. Mais, c'est la vie!


	7. Orpheus in Hell

Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei, all that wonderful creativity is the sole property of Yoko Matsushita.

Chapter 7: Orpheus in Hell

The flight seemed to take hours; in reality, it was but moments. They stumbled into Tsuzuki's bedroom. Gushoushin hovered anxiously overhead. "Shower," the librarian yelled. "Get that poison of him!"

Tsuzuki half lifted and half dragged Hisoka into the tiny bathroom. He was barely able to keep Hisoka propped on the toilet seat as he ripped off the boy's shirt. Blood ran down the porcelain and pooled on the floor.

"Everything off," Gushoushin ordered. "Hurry, he has no shields. That poison is seeping into his very psyche, it will destroy his mind."

"But …, "Tsuzuki was in a total panic as he yanked off Hisoka's shoes, unzipped his jeans and struggled to remove them. Hisoka moaned and attempted to push Tsuzuki away. "No, don't," the young Guardian whimpered.

Gasping for air, almost hyperventilating with fear, Tsuzuki stripped the boy and guided him under the streaming shower. But Hisoka was too weak to stand, his legs buckled, and he nearly crashed to the shower floor. Awkwardly, climbed into the shower beside him. He held Hisoka against his chest as he frantically tried to wipe all trace of the vile shit off the youth's body.

"I'm going back to Meifu. I have an idea," Gushoushin yelled as he zipped out the window. "Make sure you wash every drop off him. I may have a potion that will help." The feathered one vanished, leaving Tsuzuki frantically wiping Hisoka everywhere even around the delicate penis and between the youth's buttocks. Tsuzuki saw the deep red blood pooling with the water as it ran down the drain. A new panic gripped him. Where was his love bleeding? Then he realized his own thigh was ripped down to the bone. His chest was also in agony from a deep burn. And he wasn't healing.

The water was freezing before Tsuzuki finally shut it off. Shivering uncontrollably, he bundled Hisoka in every towel he had. With the last of his strength, he carried the youth to his futon and covered him with blankets. Exhausted, he suddenly collapsed with his head on the mattress beside Hisoka's inert hand.

He had to save him, he had to bring the light back to those emerald eyes. He so desperately wanted to see joy radiating from their shining brilliance. He was suffused with shame. How many times had he broken his promise to protect Hisoka, how many times had the boy been left mangled and bleeding from a situation just like this? And Tsuzuki blamed himself every time. He knew he'd fallen in love with Hisoka, maybe even during those first moments when the boy was pointing a gun to his chest. Tsuzuki was desperate to show his love, in any way Hisoka would accept. But death might rob him of that chance.

Within a few moments, Gushoushin came back with Watari. Over the next hour, they treated Hisoka and Tsuzuki's injuries. Hisoka was still unconscious from the demon's poison. He had burns, lacerations and bruises but no broken bones. After Gushoushin forced a healing draught down the boy's throat, the youth's pallor began to improve and his breathing gradually deepened into the rhythm of a natural sleep.

Tsuzuki's leg was sliced to the bone, four ribs were broken and the flames had seared huge burns across his chest. Muttering about Tsuzuki's stupidity at neglecting his wounds, Watari wrapped Tsuzuki's chest and leg in bandages. Tsuzuki grimaced as he drank some of the foul-tasting potion, but his body began to heal. Gushoushin kept up a chirpy monologue that included dire warnings about ignoring medical advice and graphic descriptions of gangrene and amputated limbs. "In fact, you need to be in a bed too," Gushoshin snapped. "But since you're not about to go to the infirmary while this boy's recovering, I guess I am wasting my breath."

"More than wasting your breath, wasting my time," mumbled Tsuzuki. "But arigato; you have my humblest thanks."

The two departed for Meifu. Gushoushin left extra vials of medicine, bandages and salve for their injuries. He also cast a small protection spell around the apartment. It would not keep out anything powerful, but it would dampen any physic attacks while they slept.

##

Several hours later, Hisoka swam up out of the cloying black web of sleep. It was dark, the only light coming from a lamp on the dresser. He painfully lifted his head from the pillow. The soothing fragrance of sandalwood and eucalyptus hovered on the edge of his awareness. The faint smell of cigarettes told him he was in Tsuzuki's bed. He lay quietly, lulled in that magical space between the twilight of sleep and lucid awakening. Those few seconds of pure peace before harsh reality rips into the consciousness and grief turns the world upside down.

For a second he was calm, unknowing, then the remembrance of the fight slammed into him. He had felt Terazuma die, heard his death scream in his mind. And it was his fault. He should have protected everyone not attacked Muraki. He should have followed his partner's orders. There could be no redemption for his stupid act. Hisoka began to sob, muffling his agony into his pillow. He curled into a fetal ball and buried his head in his arms as his tears soaked the pillow.

But truth is cruel and once acknowledge cannot be denied. Hisoka's misery was not done with him. With dawning horror, the boy realized it could have been Tsuzuki lying beneath the mass of rubble. His loss of control could have killed the only one who loved him. With a whine from deep within his gut, he curled even further in on himself and let the grief consume him. Tsuzuki loved him. On that fateful, fire-filled night in Kyoto, Tsuzuki chose to live with his tortured soul in mere response to Hisoka's plea to stay for him. Hadn't Hisoka said he wanted Tsuzuki to be with him? And then he'd pushed him away out of fear of the very intimacy he craved. Tsuzuki was so unselfish, forgoing his desire to end his own torment to succor a mere boy. He had accepted Hisoka unconditionally, accepted every act of unkindness the boy had dished out. The jade-eyed youth knew Tsuzuki would stay by his side even if there was never a chance for physical love. Hisoka had rejected and shunned Tsuzuki, yet still the amethyst-eyed Guardian loved him!

Hisoka had felt the agony as the black vultures of guilt ripped at Tsuzuki's soul. He had witnessed multiple times how the man fought to overcome his dark nature. Tsuzuki put aside his feelings to save others. His every wink and silly mannerism were no more than an unselfish act to reassure those he cared about that they would be fine.

"_I'm the one being selfish,"_ Hisoka thought. _"I've rejected him so many times, yelled at him for wanting to do nothing more than love me. And still he cares; still he is willing to give everything just to be by my side."_

They say truth can be ugly. Hisoka was face to face with his truth: he had clung stubbornly to his fears of intimacy, rejected love from Tsuzuki every time. He would not let himself love. By denying the comfort of another, it fueled his hate for his enemy, Muraki. But the abiding truth was he was killing love. And if he let Muraki's rape be the reason for this wall between him and Tsuzuki, then hadn't the bastard doctor raped them both? As his very soul embraced this certainty, his sobs faded.

Tsuzuki groaned in his sleep as his pain penetrated his unconscious. He tried to shift his body to get more comfortable, but the bandages around his torso and on his thigh gouged into his wounds.

The little groan startled Hisoka. He saw his partner squirming around in the wooden chair. With a stab of guilt, he saw the white bandages enveloping the man's torso and wrapped around his thigh. The youth suddenly felt the full force of his love for the man. This man would sacrifice his own life for him! Could he do no less that cast aside his fears, open his heart and his arms to let Tsuzuki know how much he could love him?

Tsuzuki gave out another small moan from between his clenched teeth. His yukata fell open. He wore nothing beneath it. Hisoka's tear-streaked gaze fell on the soft cock lying amidst its nest of brown curls. Heat suffused the boy's entire body. He couldn't stop staring at what was the loveliest sight of Tsuzuki he thought he'd ever see. And a deep ache to reach out and comb his fingers through that luscious hair, so much the same color as the unruly locks on Tsuzuki's head. With an incredible flush of embarrassment, Hisoka ducked onto the pillow grateful that Tsuzuki was asleep. How the image of his partner's body with its treasures in full view made his heart pound! "_Oh, please,"_ he prayed to whatever deity listened to Guardians, _"Just give me the chance to show him how I can love him."_

心

He must have passed out again after that fervent prayer. The first flush of dawn filtered through the bamboo shutters as Hisoka awoke, crawled off the bed and staggered to the bathroom. _"Gak, I really stink,"_ he thought. _"Gotta shower."_ The shower, as exhausting as it was, left him feeling almost whole. As he weaved back to bed, he heard Tsuzuki's sobs. The Shinigami was still asleep but clearly caught in a nightmare. "No, please, no more deaths, please," he moaned. His face was wet.

Hisoka knelt down between his partner's knees to grasp the older man's arms. "Tsuzuki, wake up," he pleaded as he lightly shook him. His soft call dragged Tsuzuki up from the clutches of Orpheus, back from the Hell in his mind. Groggily, the older Shinigami opened his eyes. They were red-shot with pain and fatigue.

"Tsuzuki, it's only a dream," the boy said. "It's only a dream."

"I can't stand this, Hisoka" Tsuzuki croaked. "Terazuma … all the deaths I've caused, all the pain …," the man's voiced became a strangulated sob of anguish.

Hisoka wrapped his arms around Tsuzuki's trembling shoulders. One hand cupped the back of Tsuzuki's head, fingers curled through the silky, chocolate-brown hair. He pulled Tsuzuki down to his shoulder and held him as tightly as he could. "Shh, shh, it's OK. Tsuzuki, don't cry. It's not your fault," the boy choked. Hisoka knew the blame lay was really his. "You're not to blame, you are never to blame," the boy whispered.

Tentatively, Hisoka opened his mind to his partner's. Instantly, the youth was sucked into that dark Hell that was the deepest core of Tsuzuki's mind; that well of anguish and guilt. The emotions ripped into the empath's psyche. The youth felt Tsuzuki was close to the breaking point.

Hisoka almost pulled back from the ugly miasma of self-hate, but knew he was the only one who could help Tsuzuki. Gently, he sent soft tendrils of love into the near-broken mind of his partner. Like a mother tenderly soothing her baby's cries, he soothed Tsuzuki's psychic wounds. The mind of the older Guardian accepted the balm of that love. The pain was eased and finally, Tsuzuki sighed as his wire-tight muscles relaxed imperceptible. And Hisoka knew that protecting and loving this man was his reason for living!

Moments later, Hisoka stood pulling Tsuzuki up with him. "Please Tsuzuki, let me help you." Groggily, Tsuzuki realized he was in the arms of his partner, strong arms that clutched him tight. "Come to bed with me," Hisoka whispered.

Tsuzuki staggered as Hisoka led him over to the narrow futon. He fumbled and tried to pull his kimono tightly around him. Somehow, he'd lost the obie. He crawled onto the narrow bed, and Hisoka molded himself along Tsuzuki's back wrapping his arms firmly around his unconscious partner's body.

With an exhausted sigh, Tsuzuki crashed into deep healing sleep. He could feel the length of Hisoka's warmth but his descent into oblivion was so swift he did not feel the boy squirm tight against him. Nor was he aware of the youth's cock nestling softly between his buttocks.

They slept that way, unmoving, for the rest of the day. Gushoushin came in several times to check on the invalids. He read their auras and was pleased to see the ugly red and gray streaks had begun to fade into healthier hues of pink and gold. They were healing physically and psychically. Hisoka's arm was wrapped tightly around Tsuzuki's waist. Gushoushin noticed and sighed happily. Now, maybe the two would start to behave like civilized partners. The little bird creature left to share the good news with everyone.

Yukata: (Japanese) garment like a robe

Obie: (Japanese) sash for kimono


	8. The Sweet Smell of Cordite

Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei, all that wonderful creativity is the sole property of Yoko Matsushita.

Chapter 8: The Sweet Smell of Cordite

The day was waning when Watari returned to redress their wounds. He also brought food and healing tea. Hisoka was still asleep. Tsuzuki was groggy but pliant. "Doing well, ribs are nearly healed. Your leg will take a while though." the scientist muttered. "Tsuzuki, you can even take a shower. In fact, I'd highly recommend it," he sniffed. He packed up his bag of lotions and potions and prepared to leave. "I'll be back with more tea and food in the morning. Rest as much as you can."

Feeling a bit embarrassed, Tsuzuki moved gingerly into the shower. The hot stinging water eased his pain a little. Watari had removed the bandages from around his thigh and chest. The burns were almost healed but the cut was still ugly and deep and his ribs hurt. Clean but now exhausted he staggered back to bed. As he carefully spooned himself against Hisoka's back, the boy squirmed back crowding his rump against Tsuzuki's lap.

Hours later, a throbbing need woke Tsuzuki. He was acutely aware his cock was not only hard and throbbing, but it had worked its way out of his kimono and was pressing urgently between Hisoka's creamy buttocks. _"Oh shit, please let him be asleep," _Tsuzuki prayed. The man tried to ease quietly away but a hand suddenly snaked around from the front and anchored itself on his hip. Hisoka pulled Tsuzuki firmly against his butt.

"Soka," Tsuzuki stammered, thrilled and horrified at the same time. His archaic sense of honor washed through him. _"This is wrong,"_ he thought. Abruptly, he sat up and rolled away from the boy. He hastily covered his hard on with the sheet and moved his legs off the futon. He didn't want Hisoka see his raging erection. "I need a cigarette," he murmured, reaching for the pack on the low night table.

Hisoka sat up, the sheet casually slipping to lie crumpled over his lower body. Tsuzuki stared at the youth's creamy chest, the slight definition of pecs, and the tiny buds jutting out from their amber-colored areoles. Frantically, the older Guardian cast his eyes around looking for a distraction, any distraction. He locked onto the Beretta lying on the night table. "I … I managed to save your gun," he stammered.

"Thanks," came the smoky voice. "I'd hate losing that one," Hisoka said casually, no sign of embarrassment in his voice. Tsuzuki groaned. No matter how or what Hisoka was saying that bass note in the boy's voice made him flush with desire_. "Oh crap, at a time like this, how can I think of fucking him?"_ Tsuzuki thought.

"Tsuzuki, are you strong enough to listen to me about something?" Hisoka asked.

Tsuzuki cringed. The last serious talk they had was about Hisoka leaving him. "Sure," the older Guardian whispered. But he was terrified to hear what the youth was going to say. His hands shook as he lit his cigarette.

"Ok, first, turn around and face me. At least lean back on the headboard so you aren't so uncomfortable," Hisoka said as he plumped a pillow behind him and offered the second one to Tsuzuki.

Warily, Tsuzuki leaned back and eyed the boy with a sideways glance. The smoldering cigarette dangled unnoticed from his lips. His amethyst eyes were clouded with so much fear, the hue had deepened almost to a burgundy.

"… I … I'm so sorry for all the things I put you through," Hisoka stammered.

"Don't …"

"No, please let me finish. Promise me you won't interrupt, or I may never get this out." Hisoka said. He looked up, his jade eyes full of misery.

Tsuzuki felt his throat close up, the band of dread around his neck nearly cutting off his breath. Imperceptibly, his tense body leaned away from the boy. What a terrible place to have _this_ talk, he thought. He took a long drag from his smoke.

"Tsuzuki, I am so sorry I've been so rotten to you. I never meant to hurt you, and I'm not saying this now just 'cause you saved me. We're partners, and I know no matter what happens to me, you will never let me down, never abandon me. You found me when Muraki kidnapped me, and you were so brave and caring to fight that son of a bitch and nearly died just for me … and I was a nobody and you barely knew me." The words tumbled from his lips in an almost incoherent blur of sounds. But once he started, he couldn't stop.

"Tsuzuki, you know I love you ….."

Tsuzuki's heart was slamming in his chest with dread. He was waiting to hear the death knell of their relationship that would follow the "I love you but …." cliché. He closed his eyes against the impending pain. He wished he could become deaf in that second. He wished he wasn't sitting in bed, naked with the boy he loved more than anything in the entire Universe. He wished he was in the Afterlife.

Hisoka continued his machine-gun monologue. "I love you, but I don't want to push you away ever again. I don't know if it is right or perverted, and I know you may not want to do it with me 'cause you think I am a kid, or traumatized or suffering from P …P …PDT whatever, or you may not want to love me that way 'cause you don't do that sorta thing. But I don't care what anyone thinks of it, I want you, no, I need you, to really love me. Please, Tsuzuki, show me how."

Oh, by the Twelve Gods, he got the syndrome wrong, but Tsuzuki didn't care. His eyes snapped open, the brilliance of the amethyst filled with joy and surprise. "What do you mean I won't want to love you?" He desperately wanted to know what he was hearing was what he desired. But fear stopped him from asking. He vainly strove to be the adult, the senior partner, the head of reason. But his heart was pounding so hard in his chest he thought his ribs might crack again. _"Oh by the Twelve Gods, does he really know what he's asking for?"_

"Hisoka, I swore I'd protect you, yet time and time again I failed, and you have been badly hurt. You got stuck with me as a partner, and I have let you down," he almost stammered to a stop before the force of the angry glare lancing from Hisoka's jade eyes.

"And on top of my shame, my failure, I am so in love with you. When the devil possessed me, he only said what I felt. I want you in all ways." He was shaking and if felt like his stomach was about to eject its contents. "But I'm afraid you don't know what you're asking. You are still a kid after all."

"You son of a bitch!" the boy yelled, twisting around so his legs straddled Tsuzuki's. His angry face was mere inches away. "Sometimes you are a complete baka!" he snarled. "I'm not a kid. I remember what it felt liked to be fucked. I know it hurt. But I know you will never hurt me. I have read about it … a bit," he stammered. "And I want to do it with you!"

With that, the youth snatched the cigarette from Tsuzuki's mouth and threw it on the floor. His hands cupped the startled man's face, and he bound their lips together with such force their teeth clashed. Hisoka let the heat and joy of that kiss overwhelm his fear of being touched. He dropped his empathetic defenses. He needed to feel his partner. The psychic joining was more intense than anything he'd ever experienced before. Tsuzuki's incredible joy engulfed his senses. The teen let himself drown in his partner's emotions. He embraced them all; love, devotion, tenderness and the incredible rush of sexual desire coming from his partner. He heard Tsuzuki love in the man's pounding heart and felt his deepest desire in the blood racing through the man's body. Hisoka moaned.

Involuntarily, Tsuzuki's arms enveloped the boy, crushing and hard. Although the move shot agony through his ravaged chest, his heart soared with bliss. He pulled away from the kiss to bury his head in the soft crook of Hisoka's neck. He inhaled the sweet scent of musk mixed with a faint hint of cordite. Tsuzuki decided he didn't mind the smell of cordite. He felt the wild staccato of the boy's pulse at his throat. He was crying, his tears sliding down his face and over Hisoka's collarbone.

"Let me taste you," Tsuzuki murmured, "Just taste you."

Hisoka's body melted. He lay back, pulling Tsuzuki on top of him. His skin flamed when he felt the man's lips take a soft gentle suck of his earlobe before planting tiny butterfly kisses along his jaw. A small mewl of delight slipped from Hisoka's throat. He was trembling, desire and fear warring with each other. But his fear was only that Tsuzuki would pull away. His chest rose and fell like a panicked rabbit, but his body was incandescent with desire. Every touch of Tsuzuki's lips throbbed sent fire deep into his core. His cock was so hard it hurt, but he didn't care.

"Oh, Soka-chan, my sweet kid," Tsuzuki's sigh was as soft as kitten fur.

And for once Hisoka reveled in that word "kid." He cupped Tsuzuki's face and forced the man to lift his head. He playfully nipped the man's lower lip. "Show me how to love you, Tsuzuki," he pleaded.

"Oh, aishiteru Soka, aishiteru," Tsuzuki moaned. "I have wanted you from almost the first moment I saw you," he murmured softly as he brushed the boy's hair away from his eyes. He wanted to drown in those jade depths. "I have dreams where I am deep inside you. But I'm not hurting you, never hurting you," his feelings poured out in an almost incoherent babble. "Even when I knew you couldn't stand my touch, I told myself it didn't matter if I never kissed you, if I never held you or felt your arms around me. I told myself I'd settle for us just being partners. But I was lying," he stopped out of breath caught in the luminescence of Hisoka's wide emerald eyes.

"Tsuzuki, I'm really scared to be fucked, but I want to do it. I want to make you happy," Hisoka mumbled.

"No, Hisoka, I promise I won't do that to you. It will always be your choice and only if you're ready," Tsuzuki promised. Then sealed his promise with a deep kiss on the mouth of the boy he adored. His tongue probed between the youth's perfect white teeth to be met with a searing heat. Their hands caressed each other frantically. The yukata was shrugged off and the sheets kicked to the floor. The cold air bit at them unnoticed as the fire in their bodies engulfed them.

Tsuzuki wanted to touch every inch of Hisoka's soft skin. He delicately slid his fingers down the boy's sides from the sensitive armpit to the curve around his jutting hip. He smiled as the boy wriggled begging for more.

Hisoka's lips were slightly ajar, his little teeth barely visible, his lips swollen suffused with blood from their kisses. He closed his eyes and moaned, arching his body up, begging Tsuzuki to caress him more. Tsuzuki's hands slid lightly over Hisoka's chest. He loved the slight development of the boy's muscles before trailing the tips of his fingers lightly over the nipples. He smiled with delight as they hardened, and Hisoka twisted from hand to hand begging for more. Tsuzuki leaned over and placed his lips over one tiny bud. Sucking softly he left a small wet trail as his tongue danced from nipple to nipple. Hisoka writhed begging for more.

The older Shinigami kissed and licked down to the boy's tender belly. He laved the boy's tight abdomen delighting in Hisoka's squeal of pleasure. He nuzzled the boy's belly button. Then he felt Hisoka's rock hard cock nudge him in the cheek. Tsuzuki turned his head and cat-like licked the fleshy crevice. Hisoka squealed and arched his back, the tendons of his thighs and arms straining. Then Tsuzuki went down on him, pulling and sucking the boy's hot member. Hisoka's breath tore through his throat in ragged gasps as he felt that hot, wet cavern envelope his cock. Rapidly, he ripped to the pinnacle of climax.

But Tsuzuki wouldn't grant him release. His long fingers squeezed the base of the boy's member in a painful grip. "Ssh, relax my koibito," Tsuzuki whispered. "Trust me, I won't hurt you."

"Not hurting me," the boy gasped. "Never dreamt it'd feel like this."

Squeezing Hisoka's cock, Tsuzuki kept teasing with his tongue. He kissed lightly up and down the shaft and over the swollen glans. A small drop of nectar had seeped out. Tsuzuki licked it up, savoring its salty, sticky sweetness. There was no rich dessert, no sweet that could compare to this delectable taste. His tongue delicately explored the tiny cleft, coaxing a new rich flow of juices.

Over and over, Tsuzuki's mouth enveloped the engorged tip then slid down the shaft. Hisoka was whining as he tried to force himself deeper into Tsuzuki's hot, wet cavern. But the older man held him down with his arm. Delicately, he scraped his teeth along the vein throbbing up the shaft. He cupped Hisoka's balls lightly squeezing them, using one finger to caress the puckered sack. A finger nail grazed the boy's opening.

Tsuzuki felt the throbbing of his own rock-hard cock and knew the slightest touch would send him over the edge. He didn't care. He wanted the boy's first time of love to be so filled with pleasure and joy that Hisoka's nightmares would be erased forever.

The boy was thrashing wildly on the bed. His hands clawed at the sheet as he thrust his hips higher begging Tsuzuki to suck harder, suck faster, suck him dry. Tsuzuki couldn't believe he was hearing this wonderful talk from the lips of his partner.

Hisoka's skin was aflame, electrical shocks zapping thorugh his body as he felt every feathery touch of Tsuzuki's tongue. The youth was hyperventilating as his chest heaved with every wild surge. He squirmed and mewled trying to buck his way deeper into Tsuzuki's mouth. Every time he felt the velvet tongue lave over the engorged head of his cock, he cried out for more. The hot wetness of Tsuzuki's mouth sucked him almost to climax before Tsuzuki's vice-like grip squeezed hard. Over and over, Hisoka was brought to the edge of the final ecstasy only to be teased away.

"Tsu, oh, gods Tsu, let me come," the boy gasped. His heart was thundering in his chest so hard it hurt. All he heard was a deep chuckle as the experienced Shinigami held him hovering on the sweet edge of release.

Abruptly, Hisoka felt his partner remove his mouth with a soft pop. In one fluid moment, Tsuzuki moved between his thighs but kept his iron grip on the boy's shaft. Tsuzuki needed to taste every part of the boy. He licked the soft under soles and delicately inserted his tongue between each toe. A rocket thrill of pleasure fired from those little toes all the way up the boy's legs and into his sex. Tsuzuki nibbled at the Hisoka's ankles, delighting in the goose bumps that peppered his partner's flesh. Slowly, his mouth flicked its way up to the silky underside of Hisoka's knees and the inside of both thighs. The youth's tendons were straining as his hyperflexed legs shuddered with every kiss. The sight of the boy's sac with its twin treasures filled Tsuzuki with a deep joy. He nuzzled it and then sucked in one perfect ball. Hisoka convulsed in ecstasy.

The older Shinigami abruptly sat up and flipped the startled youth onto his belly. His eyes feasted on the sweet curves of that firm back and twin mounds. He ran his fingers over the boy's buttocks and caressed the tight cleft between. By all the gods, he yearned to insert one finger delicately into the tiny bud of Hisoka's opening. "One day, my sweet," he whispered. Time froze as his lips explored every inch of the boy's creamy back and tight little ass. His erection nudged the boy's cleft between the hard mounds. The touch nearly made him come. He left a small trail of juices in his wake and he climbed above the boy.

Tsuzuki was panting, his heart slamming in his chest as he rolled Hisoka onto his back. His ribs grated together causing a sharp stab of pain. He ignored it. When he leaned forward to place tiny kisses on the boy's mouth, their engorged cocks brushed each other. Hisoka gasped at the jolt that ran through him as his manhood brushed Tsuzuki's. His eyes were huge emerald pools, unfocused and glazed with heat. The boy ground his hips into Tsuzuki's groin trying to massage his cock against the older man's. Each bump sent heat shuddering through their bodies.

Tsuzuki knew Hisoka hovered on that peak, his orgasm perilously near. "Not yet, koibito" he murmured. His fingers were milking Hisoka's pulsating shaft, nails scratching along its silky texture. Then, he plummeted his tongue into Hisoka's mouth, deep into the boy's hot cavern. He gently bit Hisoka's lower lip drawing blood. It was too much. The bite sent Hisoka into the abyss. With a hoarse cry of pure joy, Hisoka ejaculated. Huge gouts of creamy white cum spurted into the air and flowed through Tsuzuki's fingers. The boy thrust himself over and over into Tsuzuki's hand, greedily hanging onto every wave of his first orgasm.

Abruptly, both Guardians were slammed with exhaustion. Their still badly injured bodies collapsed onto the narrow futon. Their skin was suffused with sweat and cum. Their breath was ragged and harsh, their chests pumped wildly for air. Hisoka wrapped his shaking arms around Tsuzuki's neck. "Thank you, Tsuzuki, thank you," he gasped.

He snuggled deeper into Tsuzuki's arms, snuffling his face into the older man's chest. "Aishiteru Tsu…," he muttered and immediately went to sleep.

"Oh fuck," Tsuzuki sighed as he regarded his painfully throbbing organ. "Now what do I do?" He sighed, picked up the still-smoldering cigarette stub from the floor and used it to light a fresh one.


	9. Live Steel Meltdown

Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei; all that wonderful creativity is the sole property of Yoko Matsushita.

Chapter 9: Live Steel Meltdown

"I've got it. I'm a genius!" Watari crowed as he barged into Tatsumi's office, eyes sparkling, golden locks flying and rumpled white coat flapping in the breeze from the door.

"Got what?" Tatsumi asked wearily as he looked up at the excitable blond and tried vainly to stifle a twinge of desire.

"An alchemical mix, potion, cure, or whatever for the conflict with Hisoka's guns and magic."

"What are you yammering about?" Tatsumi was far too tired for the babblefest tumbling from Watari's mouth. Whatever it was it did not seem to relate to solving this nightmare of a case.

"Well, you git, those damn guns of Hisoka's nearly got him killed in Sendai. But he won't give them up, ne?"

"Yes, I am aware of that," snapped Tatsumi.

"So, I've developed an alchemic formula of an alloy matrix composited by some distinct quantum particle properties. The steel will be charged with the same magic we channel with a fuda. His firearms can be augmented by any spiritual power he uses. I've created metaphysical munitions!" The last word delivered in his characteristic upward lilt and happy grin. At this point, Watari posed, his hands on his hips, head cocked askance in one of his annoyingly dramatic pauses almost as if he expected applause.

"And this is what you have been wasting your time on!" snarled Tatsumi. His anger was out of proportion to the situation. He knew he was overreacting in a primitive effort to overcome the flare of lust that shot through his body. "With everything we have to worry about, you have been playing weird science!"

Tatsumi rarely raised his voice. He was the unflappable one, the voice of reason within the maelstrom that could be the department. Now he was yelling at poor inoffensive Watari for working so tirelessly on something that may help them.

Instantly, the shadow master was contrite, his face flooded with embarrassment for raising his voice to his colleague. His very soul cringed at the incredible breach of manners and his loss of composure. "I…I…do apologize, Watari-san," he stammered at the hurt look on the scientist's face.

Watari was crestfallen. He looked at the floor and shuffled one foot. On his shoulder, 003 hooted in distress. When he glanced at Tatsumi, there was a glisten of tears in his golden eyes. The secretary sighed, wearily placed his glasses on top of the pile of reports. He rose and moved from the behind his desk, fully intending on showing an interest in Watari's invention. The feigned concern was his way of apologizing to the blond genius. "What did you want to tell me?"

"Well, based on Heisenkoh's sixth contiguous energy postulate that uses quantum mechanics to develop his superfluidity principles, as you well know, the subatomic particles of…" Watari launched enthusiastically into a convoluted, incomprehensible explanation of whatever it was he'd discovered. He didn't get far.

The lunge was sudden, the move not of his own volition. With one hand, Tatsumi grabbed the back of Watari's neck, fingers tangling in the silky blond tresses. He yanked the startled man forward as his lips plunged onto the other's mouth. The deep kiss effectively silenced Watari's "Yip!" The owl on the scientist's shoulder flapped off and disappeared with a pop back to the lab.

Without conscious thought, Tatsumi wrapped his other arm around Watari's waist and pulled the man's body tight against his groin. His tongue began to plunder Watari's mouth, savoring its mix of ginger tea and almond cakes. He lapped at the other man's teeth and played a concerto inside the blonde's cheek. The scientist responded molding himself against Tatsumi. He slid his tongue into the secretary's mouth with a little whine of pleasure as he felt the other man's organ grow.

Shafts of heat roiled over Tatsumi's arms and down his spine. His cock was rock hard and crowded against the front of his trousers demanding attention. Then abruptly, Tatsumi pulled back and roughly pushed Watari away before turning his back on the man.

Within seconds, the flustered secretary turned around to face Watari. He had arranged his face into its normal implacable features, the epitome of composure and reserve. "Gomenasai, Yutaka-san. That was an unmitigated rudeness. Please accept my most humble apologies." This was followed by a short bow of respect. "Can you forgive me?"

"Ah ... ah ... ah ...," Watari stammered. "Of course," he lilted. He was confused, but delight beamed from his wide smile.

"I trust that mention of this unseemly and dishonorable behavior will not leave this office. I have no excuse except I am extremely tired and stressed."

"Umm, of course, it will go no further," Watari grinned. "But don't ask me to forget that! Oh no, I won't forget such a delicious kiss," Watari said with a wicked wink. Then, grinning to himself, he traipsed out of the office, closing the door on a bewildered and lusting Tatsumi.

Watari's cock was still throbbing when he reached his lab. _"Oh, bugger!"_ Watari thought looking down at his erection. _"If you think I'll forget that, Tatsumi, you are out of your sodding mind."_

心

As soon as Tsuzuki and Hisoka were declared fit for duty, the younger Shinigami was summoned to Konoe's office. The Chief ordered him to bring in every gun and weapons accessories to the lab for some sort of procedure. In actuality, the Chief told him to bring in everything or he'd be fired!

The next morning, a very angry Hisoka stomped his way into the lab. The set of his shoulders and the fury in his stride let everybody know he was not happy. The boy hunched over, his black backpack bulging and lumpy with his precious firearms.

Everyone was ordered to witness the experiment. Tsuzuki was leaning on a wall with his arms crossed and one leg propped back. His chocolate-brown hair flopped in disarray over his amethyst eyes. His face was inscrutable. Unconsciously, he pulled a cigarette out if its pack with his lips and was just abut to light it when Watari yelled at him to stop before he blew the place up.

"OK, kid, put them over there," Watari directed waving vaguely in the directions of a steel worktable. As Hisoka dropped the backpack on the table, the Gushoushin twins flew in. They perched themselves as far way from the work area as possible. If they could have watched from outside the window, they would have. "We don't want to be here," twittered Gushoushin the Elder. "But we are interested on the behavior of the spell on live steel." Others in the room sighed audibly at the librarian's American-cop talk.

"So, what do we have here?' Watari asked as Hisoka pulled the Beretta from its shoulder holster. "Ammunition as well," the scientist said cheerfully. A dozen boxes of Black Talons were placed carefully beside the gun.

"Any more?" Chief Konoe asked suspiciously.

"Umm, there this." Hisoka took the .38 revolver from its absurdly bulky ankle holster. "And this," almost embarrassed, he pulled his latest addition to his arsenal, a Russian-made Makarov, from his backpack. Reluctantly, he also added several boxes of Czech-made, full-metal-jacket bullets.

Gushoushin the Elder flittered over to the table. His little hands were tightly clutched behind his back as he hovered fearfully over the arsenal. His wings fluttered rapidly as he leaned over trying to maintain maximum distance from the mountain of firepower. The ever-curious librarian peered at the label on the Czech boxes. "Armor piercing!" he shrieked. "What are you going after, young Hisoka-san? Tanks?"

"Well," growled Hisoka, "That big son of a bitch summoned by Muraki had skin like a tank."

Eventually, all sidearms, ammunition and magazines were heaped on the table. It looked like he had enough armament to take on half of Tokyo. Watari picked up the Makarov and played with it, expertly snapping the magazine in before chambering a round. "Nice weapon, kid," he remarked before dropping the magazine out of the grip and ejecting the bullet. He opened the boxes of FMJs and scattered a few on the table muttering several "Well, well, well" and "Aha," comments to himself as he poked at them. He picked up the Beretta, inserted in a full magazine, and chambered and ejected a couple of rounds. Each time he loaded a gun, everyone flinched and got ready to duck. Did Watari know anything about firearms, was the panicked question on every team member's mind. Or were they all going to get accidentally shot? Finally, he completely took the Beretta apart, examined the barrel and spring then snapped it all together again. Hisoka started to fume.

Chief Konoe coughed as he viewed the ominous pile with concern. "Kurosaki-san, I believe you may have broken the law," he said gravely. "Several laws in fact. I doubt if half this stuff is legal even for Japanese law enforcement." His lined brow was puckered in severe disapproval.

Tatsumi's reaction was to thank all the gods that weapons were not considered an expense-account item.

"Shit, no wonder all you can only afford is that crappy little apartment, Hisoka," Tsuzuki sniggered from his post by the wall. "You can't possible carry them all at once. Do you think evil monsters are going to stand politely still why you pull that giant gun out of your backpack?"

"Shut up!" Hisoka yelled, face flaming.

"OK, kid," fluttered Watari finally having satisfied his curiosity. "Put them in there." He waved at a bulky square machine squatting malevolently in the center of the lab. The shiny, new device looked suspiciously like someone had tried to breed a kiln with an autoclave. It had a glass front door but no dials or buttons. There were two elongated tubes attached to the back, a thick power cord and an assortment of co-axial cables that ran to his computer.

"You do it," Hisoka growled. He didn't want any part of the alchemy that was going to alter his protection.

"Oh no, Kurosaki-san," Konoe growled again. "Your guns, your responsibility."

A crease of worry puckered the space between Hisoka's emerald eyes as he reluctantly loaded his entire arsenal in the evil-looking kiln. He was afraid. He knew this was a scam. They were going to melt his guns down into some sort of weird modern art. Probably give it to the Hakashaku as a gift for a cherry-blossom viewing party or something equally absurd.

Watari inserted dozens of pellets of his metallic-matrix into each tube. Then he added a liquid compound. The substances filled the kiln, obscuring the firearms. As they blended together into a yellow swirl of sulpherous mist, they emitted a strong odor reminiscent of burning copper wires. The scientist held a fuda between his fingers as he muttered an incantation before casting the scrap of cloth over the machine. Then he sat down in front of his computer and began madly tapping away at the keyboard.

"Now what are you doing?" Hisoka asked.

The blond looked up and blinked owlishly. Amazing how sometimes he looked so much like 003. "What do you mean?"

"Damn it, Watari-san, what are you doing now?" Hisoka demanded again.

"Well, I am researching destabilizing effects of RNA polymerase on same-sex allele groupings," Watari said. He was always trying formulas for sex-change spells. No one knew why.

"What the hell has that got to do with my guns?" snarled the youth.

"Well nothing. I'm all done with them," Watari waggled his fingers vaguely in the general direction of the bastard kiln. "Come back for them in a couple of days, or maybe tomorrow. I'll let you know."

"Let me know!" Hisoka grabbed his hair, his eyes bugging out and his mouth agape. "What the fuck am I supposed to do in the meantime?" Everyone was taken aback. Hisoka rarely swore like that in front of his older colleagues.

"Well, you can resume practicing your spells," Tatsumi suggested.

"But … but … Hisoka stammered.

"Good idea," Chief Konoe barked. "Make it so Seiichiro-san," nodding at Tatsumi.

Suddenly, Tsuzuki groaned and bent over hugging his stomach. His whole body was shaking.

"What is wrong with you?" Tatsumi asked alarmed.

"Nothing," stammered Tsuzuki. When he looked up his eyes were streaming with tears as he convulsed again with laughter. "Rambo's gotta go back to school." And doubled over again. His mirth stopped abruptly when Konoe told him he had to report to the Hakushaku. Apparently, the Count wanted to congratulate Tsuzuki in person on his good work in Sendai. "Oh, just shoot me now," Tsuzuki groaned.

"OK," Hisoka said wickedly. "Someone just gimme a gun."

Gomenasai: (formal Japanese) I'm sorry, or I apologize


	10. More Tea Mr Tsuzuki?

Disclaimer: I do not own Yami any Matsuei; all that wonderful creativity is the sole property of Yoko Matsushita.

Author's note: The legend of Kyuzaekai has no validity in Japanese myth. It is strictly the product of my own fertile mind.

Chapter 10: More Tea Mr. Tsuzuki?

"Call everyone in to my office, Tatsumi," the Chief ordered.

When every Shinigami assembled in his large office, he announced, "The Count has invited us to tea this afternoon. Attendance is mandatory."

"What? We're in the middle of a crisis," Tsuzuki cried in dismay. He so did not want to go anywhere near the Hakashaku.

"We're all going, it's a summons. Apparently, the Count has something to share with us that relates to the case," Konoe said. "Where's Watari?" he asked.

"Um, he called in sick," Tatsumi said vaguely, pushing his glasses back onto his nose. He looked slightly embarrassed.

Without warning, Hisoka's empathic powers realized the source of Tatsumi's embarrassment. The youth grinned and gave the flustered secretary a knowing wink.

"_Wish I'd called in sick,_" Tsuzuki thought gloomily. Any time around the Count seemed to be filled with fending off the man's persistent sexual advances. He was not looking forward to "tea" or any other kind of meeting with the Hakashaku.

"Make sure you fill Watari in on anything important from the Count," Konoe ordered as they hurried from the summons department to the Count's residence.

Chief Konoe marveled at the Count's composure despite the catastrophe affecting the Summons Department. The Hakashaku would face the imminent end of the Universe with élan and, of course, a proper tea.

They were all seated around the formal dining table. The silver tea service and delectable refreshments were laid out before them on an immaculate white cloth. Tsuzuki's chair was placed so close to the invisible man, he was practically sitting in the Hakashaku's lap. Even with the prospect of eating such rich treats, the Guardian was far from happy. He flinched each time the Hakashaku's gloved hand wavered in his direction. He even tried to keep his hands folded in his lap to thwart any fondling ideas the invisible nobleman may have.

"Watson has prepared a nice chakai for everyone. We have a delicious oolong accompanied by Castella cakes, mushi yôkan and petit fours brought in from a Parisian bakery," the Count pointed out graciously. "Please help yourselves. We will get to the reason for my summons shortly."

When most of the refreshments were gone, Watson cleared away the tea things, and the Count finally got to the reason for his summons. "The King of Hades is very distressed over what is happening in the summons Department. He asked me to relate this little-known story to you in the hope it will help stop these horrible events."

Back when the world was being formed, The King of Hades and his twin brother Kyuzaekai were created in the same instant, the Count said. Neither had the right of control over the Kingdom of the Dead normally decided by birth order. They agreed to manage the Kiseki list of the dead equally. But over the millennia, Kyuzaekai coveted all the power. He plotted against his brother, secretly stealing and corrupting souls to form a vast spirit army. He also forged an alliance with Raiden the Thunder god.

Kyuzaekai and Raiden invaded Samebito the dragon kingdom, destroying thousands and enslaving the rest of the dragons. The King of Hades enlisted the aid of Hachiman the God of War and eventually after a bloody battle lasting centuries they were able to liberate the dragon kingdom.

"That must be why so many Shiki are dragons and willingly serve their Guardian masters," Gushoushin observed. The Count nodded agreement.

The war between the two brothers lasted for thousands of years, decimating human and demonic races alike. Eventually, the King and his allies defeated Kyuzaekai. But the twin could not be destroyed. At the time, no weapon forged could kill him. The King bound his twin with spiritual chains taken from his own body and soul and imprisoned him in the lowest depth of Hell.

"So Kyuzaekai has escaped?' Konoe asked.

"No, not exactly," the Count said. "But the King has discovered that over the millennia, his twin has been able to create an avatar. No one knows how. This avatar has been sent to the human world to seek out souls. It manifests as two spirit entities, one is the demon that I believe you faced in Sakura. The other is the possessor of the man you call Dr. Kazutaka Muraki. We believe Kyuzaekai is intending to build another army of tortured souls and destroy his brother and anyone allied with him. With the destruction of the King of Hades, Kyuzaekai's metaphysical prison would dissolve, and he could enter all worlds."

"Judging by what we saw in Sendai, the demon may have originally possessed Muraki's body, but it sure looked like Muraki is in control now," Tsuzuki said.

"Yes, I would concur, my dear Tsuzuki," the Count said. "Whoever the demon entered is now in control. It seems the possessed is now the possessor."

"It seems clear he is the one behind this rash of murders, and he is also capturing and controlling the victim's souls." Tatsumi said. "Furthermore, he seems to have his own agenda. He was the one torturing Wakaba. We definitely believe Dr. Muraki is not human. There is ample evidence that he is powerful enough to evoke the spirit of an avatar, and then take control of its powers. He has never been one to subjugate himself to another. Can the King of Hades help us?" the secretary asked.

"Regrettably no, if he could he would but the magic he uses to imprison his brother is bound within his own essence. If he tries to interfere, it will weaken him, and Kyuzaekai will definitely break free," the Count explained. "His Majesty is turning to his Guardians for help," he said all the while thinking lecherously, _"That is an absolutely beautiful man. Look at those unbelievable blue eyes and the way that suite molds his incredible body." _

If Tatsumi had Hisoka's power, he'd be squirming as much as Tsuzuki who had just felt the Count's hand on his thigh.

##

The next morning, Watari charged into work as cheerful and energetic as ever. Ministry workers asked him how he was feeling, said they hoped he was better, or gave him "don't give me whatever you had" warnings. He certainly didn't look like he'd been sick. Hisoka gave him a knowing look, but the scientist blithely ignored it.

The latest reports brought the death toll to fourteen. But with his energy renewed, the reports were beginning to form a pattern to Tatsumi. A pattern that frightened the secretary. He took his concerns to the Gushoushin. They went slowly over the data. Both librarians agreed with his terrifying hypothesis but cautioned not to bring it up until they were absolutely sure.

The three of them together with Konoe entered the in the deepest level of the Ministry. Since law enforcement was certainly not in their job description, the building was not equipped for prisoners. A cell had been improvised out of a steel storage silo. It had been equipped with a door with a small glass window that allowed them to see the monster writhing within. But it was really Tatsumi's shadows that kept the soul defiler contained. Watari met them down there.

"Nice of you to join us, Watari-san," the Chief said with an edge of sarcasm in his voice.

They watched the creature lash out at them; its face occasionally warping into something that resembled the human the soul had been stolen from. The human face was in agony, its visage a plea for succor etched in its eyes! But then the thing boiled back into its amorphous black shape, obscuring any remnant of humanity. The creature's malevolence roiled of it like thick, oily smoke. The aura of hate was so palpable the Guardians had to step back. All except Watari who practically pressed his nose to the window studying the evil within.

"We have tried to reason with it, used persuasion, guile, threats, you name it. Unfortunately, this evil creature seems completely resilient to any of our magical powers," Gushoushin said, "All it does is scream vile imprecations at us. It is quite insane actually. I am not sure capturing it has really done us much good."

"It has given us nothing in the way of additional knowledge about Muraki?" Konoe asked. He was quite perturbed by the fact they were housing such a dangerous creature at the Ministry. And even more upset that it had not yielded much information to help them. And there was something distressing going on with his stalwart secretary. Clearly, the man was upset being near the monstrosity, but Konoe knew it was more than that. Something was very not right with Tatsumi.

"We have been able to determine, though, that these creatures can be hurt physically but not enough to destroy them." Soul defilers, Gushoushin Elder informed them, existed partly in a dimension of the Netherworld and partly the human world. But the pranic energy that feeds them comes directly from Kyuzaekai. The corrupted spirits can be channeled into the body of another living being. And there seemed to be no limit how many could be absorbed by someone like Muraki, someone who is not quite human. "These creatures have been created to serve a very specific purpose."

When Gushoushin shared the rest of the findings with the Chief, the department head became terrified with its implications.

心

That morning's conference session devolved into ideas for destroying the soul defilers and their controller, Muraki. "We need something that can damage their corporeal form and at the same time, destroy their psychic link with Kyuzaekai," Konoe said.

"Unfortunately, the vile creature we have imprisoned in the basement seemed completely resilient to our persuasions," Gushoushin told the rest of the Guardians at the now too-common morning meeting. "It has given us nothing in the way of information about Muraki. We have been able to determine, though, that these creatures can be hurt physically but not enough to destroy them." Soul defilers, Gushoushin Elder informed them, existed partly in a dimension of the Netherworld and partly the human world. But the pranic energy that feeds them comes directly from Kyuzaekai.

Tatsumi said his shadow magic could constrain but not destroy the creatures. Everyone agreed that to call on the power of a Shiki during a fight may risk the god's energy being enslaved by Muraki. "We can't risk that," Konoe said. "We need a very powerful weapon that can annihilate them on the physical and metaphysical plane. Wish we knew what 'no weapon forged' means."

Ideas were discussed, derided and discarded. Voices grew louder and tones heated as they bickered about the best way to obliterate the soul defilers and their master. In the midst of the chaos, Watari wandered over to Hisoka. Absent mindedly, without asking permission he opened the boy's denim jacket and pulled the Beretta out of its shoulder holster. His strange actions rendered everyone mute. He was oblivious to Hisoka's indignant stare or the startled looks from his teammates. The scientist just stood there, his face completely blank, studying the gun balanced flat on his palm. He chambered a round, and then ejected the magazine into his other hand. No one even moved, so stunned were they by this unfathomable breach of manners. "Oh, crap, he's totally flipped," Gushoushin remarked under his breath. Hisoka just gaped at the scientist.

For several seconds, Watari stared at the firearm, did the unthinkable by looking down its barrel from the wrong end as he reflectively wiggling the magazine in his other hand. He was completely enthralled by his own thoughts and oblivious to those around him. Then, he slapped the magazine back in the grip and absently handed the gun back to Hisoka. Abruptly, his face lit with a glow of excitement and pride. "Aha, I've got it, I'm so the genius, ne?" he crowed. And promptly flew out the door so fast 003 fell of his shoulder with an indignant squawk.

"Huh?" Konoe said completely baffled. "Huh?" everyone else said pretty much in unison.

Mushi yôkan: (Japanese) crystallized fruit from soybean jam mixed with hazelnuts

Ne (Japanese) used at the end of a sentence, an affirmative like "yes" similar to the Canadian "Eh"


	11. L'Espérance Est Violente

Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei; all that wonderful creativity is the sole property of Yoko Matsushita.

Chapter 11: L'Espérance Est Violente

Another deadly little cream envelope slipped its way into the Ministry. Wordlessly Konoe handed it to Tatsumi. It was signed _M_. The secretary read it aloud, _"Comme la vie est lente, et comme l'espérance est violente."_ His blue eyes were like ice as he translated, "How slow life is, and how violent hope is. It's a quote by Guillaume Apollinaire, but I have no idea what it means."

"The bastard is taunting us," Chief Konoe growled.

"It's time," Gushoushin said looking significantly at Tatsumi and Watari.

"Time? What time?" the Chief barked, he was beginning to feel out of his depth between the taunting messages in foreign language, and now Gushoushin being cryptic about a mysterious _time_. "What bloody time is it?"

Gushoushin opened his file and extracted several sheets with vertical rows of black dots on them. "These are the DNA profiles of all fourteen murder victims. Watari and I started to look at all the vics in light of Tsuzuki's information that one corpse in Sendai looked just like Naotake. Then I realized all victims bore an uncanny physical resemblance to the Guardians of the district where they were murdered," Gushoushin explained. "The two women killed in Sapporo looked almost identical to Saya and Yuma. When I compared the DNA profiles we have on file for each Guardian to every murder victim, there is a direct correlation. Every victim is some sort of very distant relative to a Shinigami on the distaff side. The victimology means Muraki is ultimately targeting Guardians."

"We think he is going to use a version of the soul catcher spell to merge his defilers with the souls of the captive Guardians when their bodies die," Tatsumi said in a strangled voice. "Once he has done that, he will be able to draw the spirits of these soul defilers into himself. He would be powerful enough to destroy the entire Summons department. He could then collect every soul from every human that dies and eventually build the spirit army that Kyuzaekai wants! He could easily be the thing that will destroy the Kind of Hades and the balance of life and death. "

"Oh by the gods," Yamato from the Shinkōchō sector said in a voice filled with despair. "We have to find and save our missing comrades."

Bedlam erupted in the Summons department. Everyone talked at once. They were trying to make sense of this new information and Muraki's latest missive when a new death report was brought in. The murder occurred in Nagasaki the night before; the victim was a sixteen-year-old boy. Although mottled by death, the eyes were a brilliant emerald. The victim's hair was tousled and blond. Hisoka stared out at them from the cold, impersonal autopsy image.

"It's not Kurosaki," Tatsumi said firmly calming everyone down.

"Speaking of Hisoka. Where the hell is he and Tsuzuki?" Konoe asked. The Chief was uneasy. He knew Tsuzuki would not slack off at a time like this. And Hisoka was never late for work.

It was during this confusion of voices that Hisoka stumbled in, ashen-faced and wide-eyed. "Tsuzuki gone, he's just gone!" the youth wailed. "He said he was going to pick up some mizuyokan at a new bakery near the Shibuya Station and come directly to work. But he's gone. I can't sense him anywhere!"

Hisoka told them earlier he'd felt his partner's surprise at something, a wash of revulsion then their connection was abruptly severed. Now there was just black hole in his mind where Tsuzuki had been. Hisoka had gone to the bakery but it was closed. He rushed around the district, frantically looking for his partner. He found nothing. He even opened his mind to the thoughts of strangers but only succeeded in exhausting himself

"Tatsumi, go with Hisoka, check out that bakery!" the Chief ordered.

When the two returned, their faces were strained. They had confirmed Tsuzuki had definitely been abducted. They'd materialized inside the closed bakery and confronted the startled manager. The man's sweat reeked of fear when the Guardians asked him about his morning customers. At first, he denied even seeing Tsuzuki. Then he babbled a bullshit story that the Shinigami had bought some pastries and left. He squirmed and prevaricated with every one of Tatsumi's questions. Until Hisoka calmly shoved the Beretta between the asshole's eyes. The truth spilled from the flaccid lips. A man dressed entirely in white had entered the store right behind the amethyst-eyed Guardian. He seemed to know Tsuzuki, spoke briefly with him, touched the Guardian's arm and Tsuzuki collapsed. The baker was gibbering as he described the two horrifying black creatures that picked up the fallen Guardian and vanished.

Back in Meifu, the weary group tried desperately to figure out Tsuzuki's whereabouts. The entire department was strung out with fear and fatigue. Hisoka paced the offices and then the halls, almost hysterical at times, angrily grilling everyone for any ideas or new information. He was unable to shield himself and alternated between rage and despair. Eventually, he avoided everyone by going to the far reaches of the library. Despair smothered them all. And Konoe now knew what the violence of hope meant.

"Without Tsuzuki's Shikigami power, how are we going to destroy these things when we find them?" the Chief asked bleakly. "The ancient scroll warned that no weapon forged could kill them. We have incredible powers, but these things are something I have never heard of before. We need a plan and effective weapons."

"No weapon forged," Yamato queried. "The King of Hades fought his battle almost before the birth of Japan. What weapons could he have used besides mystical powers?"

"Fuck this shit," Watari snarled. He got up from the table so fast his chair fell over backwards. Then he stormed out of the conference room leaving stunned looks in his wake. Watari never used that kind of profanity in public.

The rest of the group returned to sifting through the pile of information in a frantic effort to find any lead to the missing Tsuzuki. Suddenly, Tatsumi felt a tiny tremble in his shadow power. It lasted a mere second and was gone. He put it down to stress and shrugged it off. _"This is getting us no closer to finding Tsuzuki,"_ he sighed to himself. The conference-room door was shoved open so hard it nearly tore off its hinges. Watari strode in; his eyes glittered a dark goldenrod with anger. "This will kill those bastards and anything else that gets in the way," he snarled as he slammed his latest invention down on the table. The weapon lay in front of them, cold and vicious. "A Steyr!" Hisoka whispered in awe. "Explain this" barked the Chief. By all the gods, he hated firearms.

"This is a Steyr ACR assault weapon. It uses saboted flechettes instead of cartridges," Watari snapped. "I modified it so it will belt feed 1,000 of these per second." He tossed a handful of wicked-looking steel darts on the table beside the rifle. "These will make a spread pattern of about 20 meters. Not only will they shred anything they hit, I gave them the same properties as Hisoka's firearms and added a psychic poison for good measure. They will kill anything, mystical or mortal."

"But how do we know it will work?" the Chief asked looking up at his scientist with a tiny tremor of fear. This fierce creature was not the Watari he knew.

"It works," Watari assured him in a cold voice as he picked up the weapon and slung it over his shoulder.

"No, Watari, no, you didn't!" cried Tatsumi half rising from his seat as he realized the significance of that tremble in his shadow power.

"Yeah, I did. I fired a couple of dozen rounds into that piece of shit in the cage. It wasn't going to give us any information anyway."

心

It was dark before the Guardians left for home. They were ordered to rest. Most knew they wouldn't. Tomorrow they will be deployed in the hope of finding Tsuzuki, and hopefully the rest, alive.

Deep in the quiet of the library, Gushoushin Younger was frantically entering the latest case data into Meifu's computer system. His little feathered fingers typed furiously on the keyboard. But a persistent and annoying sound interrupted his concentration. Gushoushin Younger did not deal well with strife. He was twitchy and irritable from lack of sleep. To add to his discomfort, he had started to molt—months out of season. The white down made an awful mess as feathers scattered over his keyboard and desk. And now this annoying moaning.

He knew he'd never finish his work as long as he could hear that irritating sound. He flew through the library stacks, following the elusive echo. Finally, in a small reading alcove off the anthropology wing, he saw the boy. Hisoka was sitting on a bench clasping his legs under his chin. His face was jammed onto his knees, and his body shook with hysterical sobs.

Gushoushin Younger knew he was way out of his depth. Human emotions were a complicated mystery. But it was clear, Hisoka-san needed help. His twin spent more time with the Guardians; he would know what to do. But Gushoushin Elder was sequestered with Chief Konoe. Squawking in alarm, Gushoushin Younger flew around the Ministry in desperate search of human help. His agitation caused him to molt even more.

The first human he found was Tatsumi. _"He's always calm, he'll be able to handle it,"_ the librarian thought. As feathers flew everywhere, he blurted out the problem to the confused secretary. They raced back into the deep recesses of the library.

When Tatsumi saw the crumpled heap of the boy, his heart lurched. He squatted down in front of Hisoka. "Shh, Soka-kun. Shh. We will do everything to find Tsuzuki," he soothed. But the boy's shuddering sobs did not abate. Hisoka's entire frame was shaking with paroxysms of incredible grief.

Tatsumi slipped onto the bench and wrapped his arms around the youth. Hisoka curled into his chest, hands clutching the lapels of his suite. Tatsumi laid his cheek against the boy's head and rocked him. "Shh, Soka-kun, Shh," he crooned. He enveloped Hisoka in his shadow power to try to ease his pain.

After a few minutes, the shadows and warmth of Tatsumi's protective arms soothed Hisoka's grief-wracked mind. His sobs lessened until they became slow hiccups. Tatsumi again tried to reassure him they would do everything to find Tsuzuki. "You don't understand," Hisoka gulped and his body grew rigid. "I killed him, I killed Terazuma," he blurted.

Tatsumi pulled back to look into the boy's blood-shot eyes. He tried to swallow the knot in his throat as he felt the guilt and sorrow permeating in his soul.

"No, we both killed Terazuma," he croaked. Before Hisoka could reply, he rushed on. "I could have saved him at the last possible second. But I lacked the strength to teleport him and capture a soul defiler. I chose the enemy. We needed the information," he ended bleakly.

Hisoka stared at the secretary in horror. He felt the poison of remorse and guilt that was eroding the man's spirit. Even at full power, his shields were not strong enough to keep out the agony reflected in Tatsumi's azure eyes. "Oh, Tatsumi-san, what are we going to do?"

Tatsumi gathered Hisoka in his arms again, needing the close contact of another, needing to reassure himself that his terrible choice would not destroy him. "I don't know, little one. But it is a price we will pay before we get to the Afterlife, I'm sure."

心

Midnight had long passed when Hisoka walked under the sakura trees. The perennial blossoms dusted his shoulders like snow. He didn't notice. He took a deep breath and held it trembling on his lips. The youth bowed his head over his clasped hands that held a dozen fuda. He intoned the words for the spell for giving chase. Focusing every iota of spiritual power he had, he cast the scraps of material high into the air. He knew it was very dangerous to release so many spells with his inexperience. He didn't care. "Find Tsuzuki for me, find my beloved," he pleaded as the transparent phoenix birds scattered in every direction.

In the morning, only one messenger returned, crashing into Watari's lab window almost breaking the glass. It was badly mangled. Its message was a garbled mélange of pain and terror. It transmitted the scent and feel of water and dark, dangerous rocks. It transmitted the presence of an implacable evil.

Three possible areas came out of the spirit messenger's shattered memory. One was near the Tsunekami peninsula, one inside the Tojimbo Cliffs on Echi-zen Kaigan and the other was the Akiyoshidai cave near Yamaguchi. Hisoka insisted he go to Akiyoshidai cave. He was vehemently convinced the cavern was the right place even though he had no contact with Tsuzuki.

Konoe ordered every remaining Shinigami assemble within the hour for last minute instructions and deployment. The twelve remaining Guardians were divided into teams. They were all dressed for war. Tatsumi had shed his immaculate Valentino and opted for the practicality of black jeans, a thick turtleneck sweater and tanker boots.

The stolid secretary gaped as Watari barged into the room. "I'm ready," he growled. Gone was the rumpled, flapping white coat and beribboned hair. The scientist was sheathed in a Kakadu trench coat. His hair was knotted into a long braid. The Steyr hung down his back by a wide strap, and a bandolier holding the belt feed for the darts crossed his chest. He also wore his katana and the wakizashi at his waist. Tatsumi's gut clenched in fear when he realized Watari was not wearing his weapons with the intent of needing them. The blond Samurai was ensuring if he died, his ancestral weapons would be with his body.

"Watari, you're …."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," the scientist spread his hands apart in a helpless gesture. "Ridiculous. But my lab coat doesn't have enough pockets for extra darts," he said apologetically.

"…. beautiful," Tatsumi finished.

"C'mon on" Hisoka growled as he brushed past them into the hall. "When you two quit goggling each other, we've got a monster to kill." The backpack was slung over his shoulder. It was obvious he was carrying every firearm he had. They left for Yamaguchi determined to do whatever was necessary to find their comrades.

It was dusk when Watari, Tatsumi and Hisoka materialized at the main entrance to Akiyoshidai. "Oh no," Tatsumi whispered. "Look there," he pointed to the moon just on the horizon—it was blood red.

"I know the bastard's here, I just know it," Hisoka snarled with complete conviction.

"Well, at least we caught one break," Watari said. "Gushoushin says the park is closed, some sort of safety issue."

"Safety issue, more like a Muraki-bastard issue," Hisoka snarled. Although unspoken, each knew his part in the plan. No one questioned Hisoka's right to target Muraki. Watari would take out the soul defilers. Tatsumi would protect them both and transport any survivors to Meifu.

Hisoka chambered a round into the Makarov. Watari unslung the Steyr and locked the belt-feeder with its deadly darts into place. No one said the obvious—kill the fuckers on sight! Cautiously, they entered the cave through the tall, narrow slit. But even the Shinigami, who had visited all manner of mystical and wonderful places, were struck by awe at the incredible grandeur of the cavern. Its roof arched so far above them and the walls were so wide that it ceased to feel like a cave. It had all the majestic architecture of a massive cathedral. And Hisoka knew he was right!

Tatsumi used a fuda to cast light around them as they began to reconnoiter the caves. One tunnel was almost blocked off by a recent small cave in. Hisoka's senses crawled with apprehension; he nodded his head at the rock face. They worked their way over the tumbled boulders and into the bowels of the mountain. When they reached a massive wooden door newly hammered into the rock, they knew they had found their target.

"Hisoka-kun, Tatsumi-san, please be careful." Watari said as he turned into the tunnel the Steyr's muzzle pointing the way to what may be the destruction of them all.

76


	12. My Most Beautiful Doll

**My Most Beautiful Doll**

Tsuzuki had no idea how long he had been strapped face down on the heavy bed. There was no mattress, just raw, unyielding planks underneath his body. His head pounded with a violent migraine, and his mouth tasted of blood and the vile tang of ketamine. His arms and legs were on fire as the thin, enchanted wire gnawed into his torn flesh. He was naked.

Hours had dragged by, or maybe it was days. Tsuzuki repeatedly lost consciousness. He groggily awoke as a presence entered the dank cell. In the guttering light from torches fixed to the walls, he saw the pale ghost of the doctor. The Guardian flinched as Muraki leaned over to kiss the tender spot behind his ear. "Ah, finally awake, my dear Tsuzuki-san," he purred. "You know my sweet, if you had come to me willingly I wouldn't have to abuse you so frightfully," the doctor's sinister voice slithered into Tsuzuki's ears. "It's really your fault you suffer so. You only had to ask, and you could have had the love of a real man, not that little boy."

Tsuzuki lifted his ravaged head to try to glare into those silver eyes. "Leave Hisoka out of it," he snarled.

"Ah, then I was right, you are buggering the boy." The doctor smoothed his lower lip with one thin finger. "Don't you think it's a little perverted?"

"You're the hentai, you fucker," Tsuzuki choked as a rush of blood-streaked bile filled his mouth. "You raped and murdered him when he was just a child."

"Umm yes, and such a delicious child. And more's the pity for you, I had him first," he leered. "And now I am finally going to have you."

Muraki stood by Tsuzuki's head. He removed his jacket and languidly began to unbutton his shirt, carelessly letting the immaculate garments fall to the filthy floor. He took his time, shedding each layer with precision. All the while, he kept up his depraved monologue of the tortures he was inflicting on the captive Guardian. The bile rose in Tsuzuki's throat, and he began to shiver violently with rage.

Muraki was a willowy man, but as he stepped out of his silk briefs, Tsuzuki gasped. The man's organ hung like that of a bull. It was thick and dark and grotesque. He was already semi-erect.

"Ah, my dear Tsuzuki-san, I see you've noticed my endowment," the silver-haired man purred. He lightly stroked the ruddy head, the gesture made obscene by the total absence of expression on the man's face. "Soon you will have the exquisite pleasure I have long been saving for you. I envisioned having you for the first time in an elegant bed, but sadly this will have to do." The doctor walked along the bed, trailing his fingernails along Tsuzuki's back.

The binding wires held Tsuzuki's arms and legs spread apart. "Umm, what a delicious sight," Muraki purred as he viewed Tsuzuki's pink bud. Suddenly, he brutally thrust three fingers into Tsuzuki's anus. The Shinigami gasped in pain and tried to twist away. The wires cut deep into his limbs and torso, his blood dripped onto the floor. He felt Muraki climb onto the bed, and the meaty member thump onto the back of his thighs. The man's hands grasped each cheek and pulled them roughly apart.

"Hmm, no lovely scented oil around?" Muraki mused coldly. "Pity, no foreplay. Well, it can't be helped," and with that Muraki violently thrust into Tsuzuki impaling him with his steel-hard rod. Tsuzuki threw his head up and bellowed in agony and rage. Over and over, Muraki slammed into him, driving the thick, hard mass deeply into the Guardian. Muraki held the bucking man's hips in a clawed grip as he rode him. Tsuzuki's insides tore with every sadistic violation. The doctor's stamina was incredible, the rape lasting well over an hour. Finally, with a roar, the doctor ejaculated, spilling his vile seed into the Shinigami's depths, burning him like acid. Muraki collapsed onto Tsuzuki's back, gasping for breath, momentarily weakened by his efforts.

After a few moments, the repugnant weight lifted as Muraki dismounted from his conquest. Fastidiously, he began to clean himself off with his shirt. The sociopath's face resumed its cold, detached look as he surveyed the results of his rape. Ropy rivulets of blood and semen coated Tsuzuki's buttocks and ran down his legs. "That was delicious," the sadist purred. "But just a preliminary taste. Next time, I'll be sure to prolong our pleasure."

Muraki extended one elegant finger to separate the Guardian's cheeks and examine the man's testicles. "Hmm, I think when I am done, I shall castrate you just for loving that boy," his viper voice hissed. He leaned down and gently kissed the curve in the small of Tsuzuki's back. "Heal fast, my love. I have much more I plan to do with you. Oh, I do love you so much, Tsuzuki-san." Then he was gone, leaving the shattered Guardian trembling with shock and pain.

心

Now, Tsuzuki hung from the enchanted Netherworld wires, suspended from the arched ceiling far above. Blood ran down the backs of his thighs to pool on the marble tile below. He'd lost track of how many times the doctor violated him.

Following his last rape, the silver-eyed creature had smashed his knees with a maul and dragged the Guardian into a vast cavern. Humming to himself, Muraki had attached the wires to Tsuzuki's wrists and easily pulled the Shinigami aloft. Tsuzuki hung with his toes dragging the floor from a huge stalactite. Somehow, Muraki had impaired Tsuzuki's healing powers. "Oh, I'll eventually let those lovely limbs heal, my most beautiful doll," the monster breathed. "Then we can have more delightful fun. Your tight opening is really quite exquisite, I might add."

The agony from his shattered limbs seared every rational thought from Tsuzuki's mind as he hung with his toes barely touching the cave floor. There were times he was almost babbling, as wave after wave of pain racked his slender body. His screams of anger during the rapes had literally torn his vocal cords, and now all he could do was make small mewling sounds. A small rivulet of spittle and blood ran down the side of his chin.

Every time the creature that called himself Muraki approached him, Tsuzaki feared he would gouge out his eyes. Muraki had blinded all his other captives. But the monster wanted him to see the terror and agony of the other Shinigami, hear their cries, their pleadings for mercy, their agonizing and horror-filled screams. He tried to tune out their howls of agony as Muraki commanded his demon to eviscerate them, gouge their eyes and hacked of genitals. Their eye sockets were gaping bleeding holes, their mouths were wide open but the roar of the flames drowned out their screams. Then with a snap of his fingers, Muraki engulfed them in flames. The rank stench of blood and excrement coupled with burning meat filled the cavern.

Muraki began to cast the correspondences for his spell. He cast his arm wide, and the burning Guardians floated into position at the four elemental directions. Tsuzuki hung suspended in the center of the group. Muraki moved beside him, casually running his fingers down Tsuzuki's body as if he were assessing a slab of meat. He fondled the man's cock and hefted his testicles before turning back to his waiting horde.

"Soon the bodies of your Guardians will perish and as their souls leave, my soul defilers will absorb them," the doctor purred. "Once they are sated, I will evoke my vast power and take them all into me. I will become so powerful that Kyuzaekai will reward me with a place by his side," His maniacal laugh echoed repeatedly throughout the vast chamber. As Muraki began to set up his enchantment, the soul defilers formed a black miasma of evil around the sacrifice hanging from the Netherworld wires. Their number had grown. Muraki had been busy, rapidly stealing souls to build the army for his god. Now, they swarmed by the dozens. Like a feculent oil slick, they swirled around Tsuzuki, hungry, eager to suck up the Shinigami's essence. They rubbed against the Guardian, slipping their verminous fingers through his chocolate hair, touching his lips, his member. They drooled with the anticipation of the unholy spiritual feast to come.

"Now, my beautiful Guardian, I need a little contribution from you to complete my transformation." A knife sliced quickly into Tsuzuki's thigh and as the blood poured out, Muraki collected it in an onyx chalice.

The doctor set tall black candles at each quarter direction. Next to Tsuzuki, he put a small, iron table covered with a pale membrane of human skin. He added a large onyx bowl. It was filled with blood—Tsuzuki's blood mixed with the doctor's sperm. With a gulp of horror, Tsuzuki saw the dismembered parts of his comrades floating on top of the viscous liquid. His stomach, emptied long ago, tried repeatedly to vomit. Muraki placed the chalice beside it. Then he dropped several red roses on table. "Mind you, my dear Tsuzuki-san, the roses are not needed for this to work. I just thought you would appreciate the special touch," he said. The man's modulated, conversational tone exacerbated the horror of the macabre setting. He snapped his fingers, and the four soul doppelganger defilers wrapped black, sinuous arms around their twin Shinigami. The rest coiled and snaked around the Master and his "doll."

"I can sense it; your Guardians despair. They hate the world for not saving them when they have sacrificed so much for humankind," Muraki purred. "Soon, they will let their souls fly free. The defilers are ready to absorb their essences and become invincible. And then I will assimilate every particle of their energies, and no one will be strong enough to stop me. I am going to obliterate that Ministry of yours." The doctor's sibilant hiss was cold slime against Tsuzuki's ear. The maniacal glitter in Muraki's silver eyes reflected nothing but a sadist's lust to destroy. He slid his hand obscenely down Tsuzuki's belly to fondle his sex. "But, don't worry, Tsuzuki-san. You are my most beautiful and precious doll; you will live. I plan on having your body over and over."

The doctor began to develop the correspondences for his spell. "When your precious Guardians finally figure out where you are, it will be too late for them. I will have the power to destroy them and take their souls," his demented laugh rose higher in a screeching crescendo that echoed off the cavern walls.

Tsuzuki didn't hear him. His mind had fled gibbering into the dark recesses of his psyche. He clung to only one thing now, images of Hisoka that splashed before him in bursts of light that almost synchronized with the pulses of agony ripping through his body.

….Hisoka lay under the sakura tree sound asleep. One arm was thrown over his head, and his honey-blond hair was lightly mussed over his slumbering eyes. His slightly flushed cheek was kissed by his long lashes soft as doves' feathers.

…. The feel of that silky blond hair as he lightly brushed it from the boy's forehead.

…. Hisoka's blush whenever he felt the backs of Tsuzuki's fingers brush down his downy cheek.

…. The warmth of Hisoka's arms as they wrapped around him from behind. The boy's head pressed against his back as he fiercely clung to him asking desperately for his love.

….That incredibly deep, smoky growl when Hisoka had shoved a gun into his gut and called him a _vampire_. The word menaced and seduced at the same moment. It was in that word that Tsuzuki had fallen in love with the youth.

No matter if he was destroyed, he would live on in Hisoka. Their spiritual synchronizing a mere three days after they met had bound them together for eternity. Even in his agony, Tsuzuki was suffused with love as he recalled the boy's complete trust in opening his shattered mind to him. "Hisoka ….," Tsuzuki groaned. His Hisoka. His angel ….

An ear-shattering roar accompanied by a deluge of wood fragments and shards of metal filled the cavern. Gouts of bilious black smoke filled the chamber. Tsuzuki's "angel" stood framed in the ruptured doorway. His lips were drawn back in a feral snarl that turned his sweet face into an ugly mask of unimaginable fury. The combination of rage and love was both terrifying and beautiful. "Tsuzuki!" he roared. Over in a dim recess of the cave, he saw his beloved suspended from a stalactite by the same wires that had imprisoned him so long ago. His eyes filmed with a red rage. "Tsuzuki!" he screamed again.

Muraki spun around as the door imploded. He was completely stunned; he did not expect any Guardians find him so soon. He had underestimated them! But no matter his arrogant mind thought, he still had the upper hand. They'd just stepped into his trap just a little early. He noticed the annoying little boy, then a brown-haired man. Then Watari stepped from behind Tatsumi, the Steyr leveled at the mass of soul defilers.

Abruptly, he recognized the second figure that stood framed in the doorway, arms upstretched, powerful shadows dancing. The doctor sensed the immense power radiating from the shadow master as Tatsumi sent wave after wave of incredible energy smashing through the soul defilers. This was that hated figure of the shadow shifter who had thwarted him in Kyoto and ruined his plans for Tsuzuki. The very same Shinigami who had the temerity to threaten him if he harmed any Guardian. Muraki had sworn the man would die next time they met.

Abruptly, Muraki's icy composure was engulfed a blinding rage. He stepped out of his magical circle and advanced on the trio. With a snap of his fingers, he urged them to rip the shadow shifter apart. The doctor screamed as he ordered the defilers to destroy everyone in their path. They flowed toward the guardians intending to inundate them. Their mouths gaped in huge black maws of hate and agony revealing sharp, jagged teeth. Thick corrosive energy boiled off them as the black swarm descended on the Shinigami.

Watari stood legs braced with his back against the shadow master. Tatsumi threw his shadows repeatedly against the spewing mass of hate and venom that was trying to obliterate his companions. The scientist turned his weapon on the black morass of soul defilers as they swarmed to attack. The enhanced assault weapon fired burst after burst of deadly flechettes. Within seconds, thousands of steel darts ripped through the swirling mob of evil. The creatures howled and screeched as they tried to engulf their attackers. But the flechettes gutted them, shredding them into fragments. Their putrid forms writhed through the air in incredible agony as the flechettes dismembered their limbs, and the mystical energy seared through their forms. Their death howls were a cacophony that resembled the sound screeching sound of torn metal as they were sucked into the Seventh layer of Hell. But there were hundreds of them!

One monster engulfed the scientist. It flung him to one side and bore him to the floor. Its fangs ripped into Watari's collarbone. The blond screamed in agony and bucked trying to disengage the monster. Tatsumi roared in rage at the sight of his injured lover. He flung his arms wide, and threw a final immense blast of shadow magic toward the remainder of the hungry black horde. As he reached Watari's side, he was horrified to see dark, arterial blood gushing from a huge wound in the blonde's neck. Quickly, he sealed the gaping hole with shadows. Then he picked up the fallen Steyr. He stood astride the unconscious scientist, his face distorted into a devil's mask of fury and fired over and over into the ravenous mass of evil. They writhed and shrieked in agony as they disintegrated and vanished into the maw of Hell. But there were so many of them, and he was quickly becoming overwhelmed.

As his soul defilers descended on the Guardians, Muraki smirked as he lifted his hand and prepared to snap his figures and release the energy that would rip Tatsumi apart. Dimly, he noticed Hisoka raise his gun. Muraki looked at the boy with disdain. No mere steel weapon could harm him. When would that annoying boy ever learn? So focused was he on destroying the shadow shifter, he ignored the youth. It was his one and only mistake.

The first enchanted armor-piercing round from the Makarov slammed into his shoulder. The pain was incredible! He was stunned; his power should have blocked the live steel. Muraki grabbed his injured arm to stare in disbelief at the red stain spreading rapidly on his immaculate white suite. He didn't stare for long. The next round tore into his gut. The doctor did a macabre dance as each bullet slammed into him, forcing him back against the cave wall.

Hisoka pressed solidly on the trigger until the Makarov overheated and jammed. He dropped it, and pulled the Beretta from its shoulder holster. He fired non-stop, slapping in a second magazine when the first was spent. The floor became a sea of brass. The firearm bucked in the youth's hands, rocking his body back with every round. Gouts of flame barked from the gun's muzzle. The Black Talons stitched Muraki's body from knee to head.

Chunks of human meat, bone and blood spewed onto the wall as the doctor was slammed back. One round gouged a huge chunk of flesh from his head exposing the glistening white skull. Another severed his lower arm. The hand lay on the floor twitching, the rest of the limb hung useless, shards of white bone thrust through the skin. Dark arterial blood sprayed out and began to pool onto the floor.

The smell of cordite overwhelmed the sick, meaty smell of blood and scorched flesh from the sacrifices. Stunned, mouth agape in disbelief, Muraki slammed to the floor. His eyes bulged, and his bones snapped with the force of his convulsions. He tried to draw in air but he was drowning in his own blood. The doctor stared up in fear at this slim boy who was about to destroy him, this annoying _little_ boy. His incredulous gaze fastened on Hisoka as he tried to comprehend the magnitude of his destruction at the hands of this youth. With one last effort, he mouthed the incantation to manifest his demon avatar. As indistinct and garbled as the summoning was, its intent was pure.

The boy stood over him, his body quiet and still. Almost casually, he aimed the Beretta at that left, silver eye and fired. The final Black Talon ripped through the monster's eye into the soft brain matter. The tiny fragment of steel imbued with its alchemical spell splintered as it tumbled around Muraki's skull before erupting from the back. Great gouts of bloody spray mixed with brain matter, bone shards and soft silver hair splattered over the floor. Muraki spasmed, his limbs contorting in a staccato. He voided, adding the sickening smell of feces to the stench of gore and cordite. Then the monster that had taken a boy's innocence and life was sucked into the Seventh level of Hell.

But Muraki's final spell had been given life. The demon avatar roared from the void, bursting through the dimensional portal into the cavern. It was fueled by the hate that still reverberated in the air from its dying master. It thirsted for revenge. Instinctively, it aimed straight for the boy wielding the steel weapon. From the cavern's great height, it plummeted, destruction spewing from around its elongated teeth.

Tsuzaki tried to cry a warning to Hisoka through his shredded throat. Helplessly, he watched in horror as his beloved was engulfed in the creature's maw.

But Hisoka was not there. With one blurred movement, his lithe body twisted to one side. Instinctively, he dropped to one knee at the same moment instantly swapping a spent magazine for a full one. Two-handed he raised the Beretta and fired on the demon. The thunderous roar of his weapon rendered everyone deaf. The shots came faster and faster, the enchanted Black Talons ripping great gouts of flesh and blood and gore from the monster. Long, slimy ropes of gut fell from the beast's ripped belly as the mystical bullets shattered its spine. Gouts of destruction blasted through its body with every impact. But mere steel, even imbued with magic, could not easily destroy this monster. It was fueled by the power of a death god.

The beast crashed to the floor, neck buckling under the weight of its great body. The black ichor of blood splattered the walls. The foul stench of offal from the twisted, stinking mass of intestines mixed with the choking smell of cordite. Thrashing in agony, the beast crawled toward the slight form of Hisoka. Instinctively, the youth tried to throw up a defense shield. But the monster was fast! It lashed out with one steel-talonned claw catching the slim youth across the torso and throwing him head first into the rock wall. Hisoka lay inert, the Beretta still gripped in one out flung hand. Blood pooled on the floor from under his body. The demon pulled itself along. crawling over its own viscera and gore toward the Guardian. Its great maw reached forward, tongue lashing out to drench the boy in its poison. One claw pinned the young Guardian to the cold rock. It reached forward with its mouth agape, huge teeth ready to tear the youth to shreds.

Through eyes blurring with tears, Tsuzuki watched this in horror. But with his death, Muraki's spiritual hold broke. The enchanted Netherworld wires unraveled, and Tsuzuki collapsed to the granite floor like a broken puppet. His pain-clouded vision took in Tatsumi as the shadow shifter threw away the spent Steyr and raised his hand to defend Watari with his magic. The shadow shifter was instantly engulfed by a seething mass of defilers.

Then Tsuzuki saw the crumpled, bleeding body of his love pinned unmoving beneath Muraki's demon, and knew the boy was dead. The Guardian's numb mind comprehended nothing else in the chaos raging around him. His reason to exist was gone! He would destroy this evil monster and join Hisoka wherever his spirit had gone. Nearly unconscious, he pushed himself onto his shattered knees and placed his fingers together. "I bow to Thee and beseech You, the Twelve Gods that protect me, appear before me. Come out Tern Snake!"

An incredible howling reverberated throughout the deep cavern as instantly the gargantuan, winged serpent materialized above them. Wild and nearly uncontrollable, he was the only Shikigami capable of destroying a Guardian. Giant rivulets of pure scorching energy billowed from his massive sinuous body. Bilious orange smoke roiled off his body and huge gouts of flame flared from its maw to fill the cavern. The sight of his Master, injured and near death, drove Touda into a savage fury. He saw the Guardian lift his arm and point to Muraki's massive demon.

"Touda, annihilate!" Tsuzuki croaked his command. But just as the serpent reared back to unleash its incredible power, the Guardian saw his beloved stir and lift his head to look at his partner. "No!" Tsuzuki tried to scream through his torn throat. He knew Touda would destroy them all. "Touda, retract!" he croaked. For a second he feared the Shiki would not obey. But incredibly, at the last second it reared its head like a startled horse and vented its immense power into the cavern's roof.

The rock blasted apart erupting through the top of a mountain with the force of a volcano. The entire mountain shuddered with the power of the venting god's energy. The cave walls disintegrated, the noise obliterating even thought. A deep rumble erupted from the bowels of the mountain as waters from underground lakes breached their confines and roared through the caves and into the cavern. Tsuzuki's last thought before oblivion was he'd killed them all including his beloved Hisoka.

Hentai: (Japanese) pervert

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

In the next chapter, we find out all about Hisoka's past and he risks his life and soul to save his beloved Tsuzuki.

Read and review.

84


	13. The Darkest Memory

**The Darkest Memory**

Two weeks later, Tsuzuki lay in a deep coma in the Meifu infirmary. His innate Guardian ability to heal was gone. Both legs were encased in casts and thick bandages swathed parts of his body where he'd been burned by Touda. He was ensnared in the insidious darkness of a deep coma. Every breath was labored, and his skin was grey and clammy, unresponsive beneath Hisoka's tender caresses. The Ministry doctors said that when he retracted his command to the Shikigami, the backlash of energy all but destroyed his pranic force. There was nothing left in him to heal. His spirit stood close to the thin veil separating the real world and the Afterlife. Very soon, he would cross over.

"This is a similar coma to the one he experienced 70 years ago," Tatsumi said gravely. Hisoka had shared Tsuzuki's memories of his past with the group in an effort to find some help for his partner. "It is almost as if he has always longed for death. Maybe he believes he killed us all."

"He hasn't got long now," Gushoushin Elder said sadly. "He was far too weakened physically and spiritually even before he evoked Touda's power. The Shiki took everything he had to give. A Guardian's body and mind can only take so much before the spirit dies."

At that pronouncement, Hisoka broke down into soul-deep sobs collapsing in a heap by the bed. If Tsuzuki dies, he did not want to exist. He wanted the chance to give his love to Tsuzuki. Now that chance was slipping away with every second.

His sobs were so hysterical he was hyperventilating. Konoe pulled him from the bed in a hard embrace. "I will ask the Enma-DaiŌ for his intervention. Even he is not without mercy," the Chief said.

Tatsumi walked up behind and wrapped Hisoka in his strong arms. He softly kissed the top of youth's head. Then the secretary enveloped him in his shadow magic to ease the boy's pain. It was fortunate he was holding him tightly. Hisoka suddenly crumpled in a rag-doll heap. Gently, Tatsumi lifted him into his arms. "We should take him to the next room," he said.

"No," said Konoe in a rare moment of compassionate insight. "Bring a cot in here. He will not rest if he is away from Tsuzuki."

心

It was Gushoushin Younger who unearthed the obscure information that might save Tsuzuki. "There is a sect of monks although many believe they may be closer to oni in form than human. It is said they have stolen the secrets from the Tuski no Iwakson scroll of the elixir of life. They use these secrets to create remedies for reincarnation, prolonging life and manipulating death," the librarian informed them as he fluttered around in excitement. "They are also said to be makers of vile and evil poisons. But if we take them a suitable gift, something they will covet, they may give us a remedy to save Tsuzuki-san."

"Where are they?" Tatsumi asked skeptically. He didn't like the sound of "poison maker."

"They are on one of the peaks of Mt. Iwaki, in a shrine on the Akakura Mountain on the north-east face. One of us has to climb to the Waterfall of Fudo about halfway up the mountain. There is a fissure near the waterfall that leads to a shrine. The climb is long and dangerous. There is also a great chance they will not deign to speak to a Guardian of Death."

"I'll go," Watari growled. His normal cheerful demeanor was gone. Every time he looked at Tsuzuki, his eyes flashed with anger. His dear friend might die, and he wanted to destroy things.

"No, I must go," Hisoka said. "He's my partner and I ... I … I love him." Only silence and nods followed the boy's declaration. It was his right. Gushoushin Elder said he would go with him to the base of the mountain.

"We need to take them a rare object as a gift. Something they will desire enough to grant your request," Gushoushin said.

"I believe I have something quite rare they will like." Invisible except for his mask and gloves, no one had noticed the Count had materialized at the door of the room. "Watson, please bring me the Athame of the Moraga." When the stunted butler returned minutes later, he carried a short knife in an ornate sheath. The Count handed it to Hisoka with a bow; at least it looked like he bowed since his mask dipped briefly to the level of the youth's chest. "We have lost six Shinigami, please do not let him be the seventh. I beseech you to do everything you can to save my most beloved Tsuzuki." Then they left.

"Why this?" Hisoka asked. The knife was beautiful but too short to be effective. The obsidian handle glittered like black diamonds. Then he pulled the wicked-looking blade from its bronze scabbard. The edge was razor sharp and engraved with unfamiliar symbols and stick-like figures of primitive men. A thrumming energy jolted up his arm. He felt the power of the knife and knew it was a formidable weapon imbued with strong metaphysical power.

心

Gushoushin and Hisoka stood at the base of Mt. Iwaki. A cold wind made the boy shiver despite his heavy wool-lined jacket. "Hisoka-san, look," Gushoushin's gasped looking up. There, partially shrouded in cloud, hung the thin sliver of the waning moon—it was slightly rose tinged. The boy felt black despair crawl through his gut. Muraki was undeniably dead, but the moon still bled.

Resolutely, he turned his focus to the mountain looking at the lichen covered rocks and thick shrub that blanketed its face. "What's hard about climbing that?" The youth muttered. "The slopes are slippery and there are no steps, but I can fly up there."

"No you can't fly," Gushoushin warned.

"Why not?" Hisoka asked as he craned his neck trying to peer up to the mountain's cloud-shrouded peak. He shivered, it was bitterly cold, and a damp mist soaked everything.

"Spirit protection, that's all I know," the librarian said glumly. "You will have to climb the slopes and now it is almost full dark, it will be harder to see. There are many oni up there to keep travelers away. Be on your guard every second, Hisoka-san. The sanctuary spells aren't very strong, but the mountain slope is treacherous, and this mist makes it extra slippery. If you fall, you die." he warned. "Many ascetics climb the mountain every year, but to have the mountain accept you, it is necessary to tread as lightly as possible. Try to place your feet on the stone with the weight of a butterfly," Gushoushin advised. Hisoka looked askance at him as if he'd lost his little birdie mind.

The librarian handed the athame to the youth. "Be sure they give you the potion first before they touch the athame. Once their fingers connect with it, you have lost it. You would never be fast enough to snatch it back. Be warned Hisoka. The monks are not to be trusted."

"OK, wish me luck." Hisoka confirmed his Beretta was secure in its holster and put his foot on the beginning of the slope. "How hard is it to climb a mountain anyway?" he muttered.

It was hard. The rocks were covered in moss and very slippery, and the wind lashed at him. Quickly, his legs began to ache abominably. As he climbed, he unconsciously threw up shields against the few minor spiritual assaults—a dancing wall of flames, spiked vines that wrapped themselves around his legs, millions of nasty stinging insects so thick they obscured the path, a massive swarm of bats that brought back ugly memories of that battle with Muraki in Nagasaki. He barely noticed them so preoccupied was he with concerns were of Tsuzuki, only Tsuzuki.

Although the climb was arduous, the beauty of the mountain eventually stirred a memory of a joyful time in Hisoka's life. It was his tenth birthday. He was normal, happy and innocent. His entire family had gone for a picnic at a park at the base of Mt. Fuji to celebrate. Several of his older cousins kept teasing him to climb the base of the mountain with them. Nozaki, his favorite cousin told them to back off. The handsome youth was the oldest in his family, destined to become the patriarch. At nineteen, he was already in his second year at Tokyo University studying medicine. But that wasn't why Hisoka adored him. Noza always protected the young boy from the teasing of the other family members. He treated him with respect, listened to him and encouraged him whenever he could. That day, Hisoka's mother called him back from the playing on the mountain saying he was too young. She hugged the disappointed boy, and plied him with sweets. Noza forgo the climb with the older cousins to entertain Hisoka with amusing stories until he was cheerful again. It was Hisoka's last happy memory.

The next week, something evil settled on his family like one of those giant black ravens he saw in his nightmares. His mother would lock herself in her bedroom and cry. His father, previously a stern but fair man, was consumed by anger, lashing out at family and servants alike. Hisoka heard vicious gossip whispered by the servants. It was about Noza. The young man had broken his engagement with his fiancée and moved out of the family home to live with a college friend—another man. "He's a filthy hentai," Hisoka heard the servants whisper in malicious tones. He was the worst kind of evil, a disgrace to the Kurosaki clan they said when they didn't think the little boy was listening.

The gay couple became the sole focus of the Kurosaki clan's ire. The two men defied their families and declared their love publicly. They were seen kissing in the streets, walking with arms around each other and looking devotedly into each other's eyes. They announced they were going to be legally married. The Hisoka heard the word "hentai" whispered over and over in abhorrent tones. The revulsion with which that word was uttered filled the boy with fear. He had no idea what hentai meant, but he was frightened of it. Whatever it was, it had destroyed the serenity of his family. Somehow, he knew his beloved Noza, was the center of his father's hate.

Hisoka's father, Nagare, was incensed with rage. Saving face and maintaining the honor of his dynasty was more important to the man than love of any living thing. Hisoka heard his father formally banished the family from the Kurosaki clan. All records of that branch of the Kurosaki lineage were expunged from records; all images were removed and burned. Nozaki and his family ceased to exist. Nagare ordered Hisoka's mother never to speak the name of her brother or any member of his family again. The boy watched in helpless fear as his mother changed from grieving for the loss of her family to being a fanatical proponent of her husband's implacable hate. Hisoka understood none of it, he just knew his dearest older cousin was gone, and with it, his childhood happiness.

Just before the traditional New Year's festival when all members of Kurasaki clan normally gathered at his house, Hisoka accidentally asked his mother if Noza and his family would be visiting. She flew into a rage and slapped him viciously across his face. It was the first time in his life he'd been hit by a parent. The small boy was shocked and frightened. Then she hauled him by his hair to his bedroom and locked him in. He did not know that this was the beginning of his own imprisonment.

The fear and confusion generated by his mother's rage triggered his psychic abilities. Suddenly, he was bombarded by the hostile but incomprehensible feelings of the adults. He felt the knife edge of disgust and condemnation roll flow from them like a thick smudge of oil. Over and over, he felt their anger without understanding the cause. Permeating every adult mind was the disgust at Noza's acts and the disgrace the young man had brought on his family. Hisoka felt the revulsion as they gossiped about how it was evil to love a person of the same sex. The house became one of whispered salacious gossip. The adults' feelings about this perversion overwhelmed his young mind.

His father's rage battered his unprotected mind. A family that spawned such perversion should never be allowed to live, his father obsessed. Hisoka's mind was overwhelmed by Nagare's drive to hide the disgrace, and the man's thirst to destroy the perpetrator of this shame. On that unforgettable New Year's Day, his uncle, aunt and three young cousins perished in a mysterious fire. His beautiful cousin Noza and his lover were found dead the next day, presumably of suicide. Years later, Hisoka found records in the Ministry that proved his father had acted on his desire.

The ten-year-old's reactions to his powers became so strong, they could not be ignored. He was unable to control the thoughts and feelings that bombarded his fragile, child's mind. He had no way of knowing what was happening to him, and no way of protecting himself. The emotions of others became his emotions. Physical reactions that were far too mature for a child coursed through his body.

When Hisoka's mother realized her son was different, she became enraged. She flayed his back with a bamboo cane. She shrieked obscenities at him, calling him an abomination, a perversion and evil spawn of the devil. She screamed that he carried the same cursed blood as his cousin. She declared he was not her child! Then she dragged him down to the cellar and locked him in a cage. That year, ten-year-old Kurasaki Hisoka ceased to exist. His schoolmates wondered where he had gone then forgot about him. His family never spoke his name again. The boy's life became defined by terror and fear. He was told over and over that he was he was hentai. He was evil. He had no right to exist.

And then one night, he escaped his cage. All he wanted to do was smell the cherry blossoms, feel the soft grass beneath his feet, have a single moment of peace. It was the night the moon hung, sanguine and gravid in an ebony sky. It was the night Doctor Muraki stole his purity, his virginity and his sweet life. There under the lovely sakura tree, beneath that blood-red moon, the boy was stripped and raped. The man with the silver hair and glittering eyes violated his innocent body and mind. Then the doctor cursed him with a lingering, terror-filled death.

Hisoka's past and present clashed in a black maelstrom of incredible anguish. In the chilling mist, ten-year-old Hisoka and sixteen-year old Hisoka collapsed onto a wet, slime-covered rock, buried his head in his arms and wailed, "Noza! Noza! Why, why did you have to die?" His sobs racked his body with such force he though his ribs would crack. But he could not stop the wrenching grief that burst like a tsunami from his soul. He got wet and cold, and he was shivering so hard his muscles began to cramp. But the outpouring of torment continued unabated. His beloved Noza was branded hentai, and then killed for his love of another man. Now, to love Tsuzuki completely and unconditionally, to open his body to him and feel his flesh surround the man meant he was the worst sort of pervert. One who deserved only to die.

But somewhere in the Heavens, a benevolent god looked down with compassion on the sobbing, pain-wracked youth. A tendril of loving acceptance was sent into that tortured mind, "Love is precious in all its forms. Know you are loved, and love freely," it said.

The sheer beauty of that message burst as a brilliant light within the boy. The epiphany could not be denied. It lanced through his mind with the clean slice of a katana._ "I love Tsuzuki! That is the only thing worth living for. Our love is pure and it is precious." _Kurosaki Hisoka stood up on the side of that dark, hostile mountain and vented his truth over and over into the mist, "I am not evil! Noza was not evil! You are wrong father, we are not hentai!" He unleashed his rage at his father and at a world that condemned love. Hisoka expunged his fears and accepted the truth of his love.

心

Hours later, the practical Guardian part of his mind told him to get his ass moving and finish the mission. He was shuddering with cold and exhaustion. But he had peace. He climbed the last of the distance to the falls, and made his way to the dark hole in the side of the mountain that led to the shrine he sought.

"Hello, anyone in here?" Hisoka stepped through the cavity into a small cave. The place reeked of old men and rotten food. It was murky, the only light coming from a few sputtering candles adhering to several rocks. A fire smoldered on the far edge of the small cave filling the room with thick smoke. It was hard to see through the choking fumes that filled the cavern. He could see no people. Just filthy walls painted with odd, man-like images. A shrine built of sandstone rocks squatted in the center of the cave. At least he assumed it was a shrine, it had no cloth or religious icons just a few smoldering sticks of putrid smelling incense planted in the sand in a cracked sand.

"Oh, look it's a dirty Shinigami," the croaking whisper came from at the back of the cave. Hisoka blinked as he thought the walls were rippling, or maybe it was just his eyes had started to water from the smoke. A bundle of rags materialized from the sandstone face and stood up to reveal a desiccated old man. The old monk tottered closer to Hisoka. Most of his teeth were missing or broken. His mouth hung open, drool ran down the side of his chin and his breath was foul. His fingernails were blackened and broken, and his wispy hair was matted and filthy. Hisoka swore he saw insects squirming through it.

"It's a Tainted One" the old monk muttered.

"Yes, you can smell him from here." Another equally desiccated figure materialized. His robes, like the first, were falling off his skinny frame. The tatters revealed wrinkled, scabrous skin covered with sores and liver spots.

"_These are holy men?"_ Hisoka thought in shock. _"Where the fuck did they come from?"_

A third venerated one emerged from the gloom. "Shinigami stink." He intoned.

"Stink! You should talk," Hisoka snarled. "Ever heard of bathing once in a while?"

He back up a step as the first monk reached forward to touch his sleeve with a grime-encrusted finger nail. With a hiss, the holy man jerked his filthy finger back. "He bears more than the taint of a Shinigami. He stinks of cold metal. Leave here now before we rip you apart and feed you to the Uwabami, despicable Guardian of Death." This threat would have been more imposing if the holy man had not doubled over and began coughing up phlegm from the pervasive smoke wafting around everything.

"How dare you profane this holy place with the stench of steel weapons? The second monk screeched, spittle flying from his mouth. "Get out now!"

"No, I've come for the Tuski no Iwakson elixir, and I'm not leaving without it.

"We will not give you anything. You are a filthy Shinigami," they croaked together.

"Well, in that case guess I'll jut have to toss this old knife over the edge of the mountain. Don't think a 600-meter drop will hurt it though," Hisoka said moving the entrance of the cave and dangling the wrapped package over the precipice.

心

The mist had turned into a freezing downpour as Hisoka stumbled down the slick steps. The red-tinged moon had been chased from the sky by the first streaks of dawn light. Hisoka was drenched and shivering so hard he couldn't control his legs. As he reached the ground, he fell, unable to walk another step. An equally wet but anxious Gushoushin saw the boy collapse with exhaustion. He summoned help. Tatsumi arrived just before Hisoka passed out to transport them back to Meifu.

Oni: (Japanese) Demons, devils, ogres or trolls

Uwabami: (Japanese) giant, human-eating monsters

92


	14. Oh Koibito

**Oh, Koibito!**

When Tsuzuki was finally allowed to go home, two surprises greeted him. The first was a refrigerator and cupboard full of his favorite sweets and pastries. Hisoka stood in the kitchen, grinning in delight and shuffling his feet like an excited child. He had a look of total self-satisfaction on his face.

"Oh, Hisoka, this is truly generous," Tsuzuki said. "But these must have cost a fortune. Where did you get the money?"

"Ah, I sold the Berretta." Tsuzuki's blinked back the sudden tears that threatened. He was overwhelmed by the gesture. Hisoka had lost all his other guns at Akiyoshidai.

The second surprise sent the tears freely flowing down his gaunt cheeks. Half his clothes in his bedroom closet were missing. The space was filled with every scrap of clothing Hisoka owned. Not only had the youth moved in with Tsuzuki, he was declaring his intent to be in his bed.

Hisoka filled him in on the final part of the battle told to him by Tatsumi. The fire of Touda's mystical energy force incinerated the corpse of Muraki in an instant. Within a nano-second, the flaming blast of power also obliterated the remaining soul defilers. It gave Tatsumi a few precious seconds; enough time to use his shadow power to lock on to the spiritual energies of the four Guardians and transport them through the avalanche of falling rocks to the safety of the park outside. But Yuma and the others could not be saved when the mountain top blew off. The shadow shifter sensed the injuries of the captive Shinigami were so severe they could never recover. Their spirits screamed for succor. He granted them that final mercy; he let the mountain take their lives. Then as the massive cavern collapsed, he used his spell of compassionate release to guide their souls to the blessing of the Afterlife.

##

Over the next few days, everyone who worked at the Ministry by to wish Tsuzuki well. Tatsumi, after much throat clearing and adjusting of his glasses told him his recuperative time would be with, wonder of wonders, full pay. Of course, that was the little matter of Tsuzuki destroying half of one of Japan's major tourist attractions. The current explanation for the destruction was the mountain was a dormant volcano had finally erupted. Still, the Department or rather the Count would eventually offer adequate remuneration to the people of Japan after Tsuzuki returned to work. Maybe a little overtime would cover it. The stern shadow master couldn't hide the softness inside him. Amazing what being in love did for a man!

Hisoka deliberately asked about Watari's recovery even though he'd received the scoop from Gushoushin earlier. "Well, I do have to keep him … er, he does have to be reminded to stay quiet and rest from time to time," Tatsumi shifted uncomfortable, pushing his glasses up his nose. He was almost blushing. "You know that genius mind of his is never still, always trying to dash here and there inventing things." The man had no idea how soft and loving his azure eyes had become. Sometime during the chaos of the past few days, Tatsumi had finally broken free of his reserve and openly declared his love to Watari to everyone.

"Yes, I imagine he is like Hisoka," Tsuzuki agreed. "A bit of a handful at times," he said with a wink.

The other half of the loving couple bounded in the next day. He'd been staying at Tatsumi's home at the urging of the secretary. Seems Tatsumi didn't think Watari could recover fully without the secretary's ministrations. "His house is like a pristine monastery. It so needs some accessories," the blond sniggered. "Did you know he has a huge collection of Western philosophy books in Japanese and French, and the "Iliad" in Greek? And he reads them!" the scientist stated in awe. "Oh, and he has Nietzsche in German but says he can't read it as well, so he prefers the Japanese version." It was so obvious that Watari was loving every minute of his "forced" stay at Tatsumi's.

"You ought to move in together," Tsuzuki suggested grinning. "I hear it is very good for the soul."

"Heavens, not his place," Watari shivered. "He keeps it so neat and tidy. Besides, I'd miss my hot tub," he finished with a lecherous grin. Watari brought them a couple of bottles of his best massage oil, made by his own hand and guaranteed to relieve all aches and pains. He assured Hisoka he hadn't tampered with it. The blond scientist promised that Tsuzuki would not wake up on the other side of the gender pool. His graphic suggestions how Hisoka could best use it caused the youth to blush deep red.

Tsuzuki couldn't help but luxuriate in all the attention. True, he was still extremely weak but he couldn't wait for the evenings when Hisoka came home from work. A couple of times he'd even cooked dinner for them but that stopped when Hisoka flatly refused to eat, complaining that his cooking was terrible. The boy now made it a habit to pick up something tasty from a local take-away. Or bakery if Tsuzuki begged hard enough.

One night, Hisoka brought in a very expensive bottle of Kubota Junmai Dai-Ginjo sake, a gift from the Count. Tsuzuki didn't dare tell him he thought he was too young to drink. He also brought in a special dinner of shellfish chanpon soup and a shoronbô. The sake made a delightful complement to the desert. Tsuzuki was in gourmet heaven. He wanted to stay there forever.

The youth complained as he heated the chanpon and prepared dinner. He'd walked in on Watari and Tatsumi embracing in the lab. "It's getting ridiculous around there," the boy grumbled. "I mean, why don't they get a room or something?"

"Jealous, Hisoka?" Tsuzuki teased with a wink. A deep pink flooded the boy's cheeks. They stared at each other, the unspoken promise vibrating between them.

##

But this idyllic life was too good to last. One evening, Hisoka came home from work in a foul mood. He was irritable and made only perfunctory conversation with Tsuzuki as he fixed dinner. The tension radiated from the teen like heat from a lava flow.

Tsuzuki's stomach churned with acid as he watched his beloved with his food, eyes downturned, the set of his shoulders tense and angry. The amethyst-eyed Guardian did not need empathetic abilities to know something was seriously bothering his partner. "Hisoka, what's wrong?" he finally asked,

"You are!" Hisoka finally snapped. "It's you! I can't stand this any more, Tsuzuki. You go around with that cheerful face, smiling all the time, as if nothing happened"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Hisoka," Tsuzuki said puzzled. "I like to be cheerful, I don't want people around me to be unhappy. And what is wrong with that?"

"Everything's wrong with it!" the youth yelled, his hands clenched on the table. "Don't you see, you are shutting me out? I can feel it inside you. You are keeping it all in again. Yet I feel it, all that hurt and humiliation and rage you have for what Muraki did to you. I know what you are feeling, remember, he did it to me too!"

With that, Hisoka, got up from the table and stormed into the bedroom. Puzzled and hurt, Tsuzuki followed him. He gasped when he saw the youth stuffing his last gun, the .38 Special, and some extra ammunition into the backpack. "Where are you going?" Tsuzuki cried in a panic.

"I gotta get away from you for a little bit, Tsuzuki, I just can't take any more of this. I'm exhausted."

"Exhausted from what? I thought you loved me, that we were happy here." Tsuzuki began to shake with fear. Nausea roiled through his gut. His legs were suddenly weak and he had to lean against the doorjamb.

"I do love you but I can't stand that you don't trust me with … with your feelings, your fears. I can't take it that you don't want to deal with what really happened … that you pretend nothing is wrong with you," the boy cried. His cheeks glistened with tears. "I'm wiped out trying to ignore that black part of your mind that you think no one knows about. If you can't deal with it, if you can't talk about it to me … me, who was also raped by Muraki, then you are a coward!" Hisoka went over to the closet to pull out some clothes.

"Hisoka-kun, please don't leave me. Where will you go?" Tsuzuki moaned.

"Watari said I could stay at his place while he's over at Tatsumi-san's."

So Watari knew about this. Tsuzuki felt an incredible stab of disappointment and yes, jealousy. He knew Hisoka and Watari were becoming closer friends with their love of firearms giving them much to discuss. But Watari knowing how Hisoka was feeling before Tsuzuki did? The hurt lanced through him. Hisoka had been able to confide in the scientist about the turmoil in his heart when Tsuzuki had obviously been unapproachable.

The sight of Hisoka pulling his denim jacket and favorite jeans from the closet, that simple gesture, was too much. It tipped Tsuzuki over the precipice he had been teetering on for so long. His heart broke. He staggered over to the bed and collapsed on it, buried his head in his hands and began to wail. His grief, despair and rage at the violation he suffered at the hands of the doctor finally escaped his tight control. His arms wrapped tight around his torso, and he held himself as his body shook with the force of his emotions. The room and everything in it faded as he turned inward and let the black tsunami of anguish engulf him. All that he thought was good about himself, all the redemption he tried to accomplish for his past sins, the little nobility and honor he thought he could bring to his life and the lives of others had been crushed by one cruel sociopathic man. Yes, that physical violation had been perpetrated on his manhood, the part of himself he had yearned to share with Hisoka, the part he wanted to offer the boy, whole and unsullied. The purity of their first physical union was gone forever! But the rape of his body was nothing compared to the rape of his honor and soul. His sobs turned into a long keening howl as the pain and anguish ripped out of his chest.

Hisoka rushed over to his partner, all thoughts of leaving vanished in his fear for his beloved. He climbed on the bed behind Tsuzuki and wrapped his arms around the sobbing Guardian. "Oh, Tsu, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he cried. "It's OK, Tsuzuki, I'm here, I'll always be here, always be with you." As he held his beloved, he rocked him back and forth, as a mother rocks her baby. His arms tightened painfully around Tsuzuki as if he feared the man would vanish. He buried his head against the back of Tsuzuki's neck as his own tears flooded down the man's shirt. They were two wounded doves who may never fly again.

The remained locked in that tableau of mourning for a very long time. Tsuzuki slowly returned from that deep, dark place, drawn back to the world by the unyielding grip and tight warmth of Hisoka's arms. He heard the boy murmuring nonsense in his ear. It didn't matter what the youth was saying, the sound was pure love. Love and only love could have drawn Tsuzuki back from the choice to disappear forever into the maw of his own dark mind. The light radiating from the boy's soul enveloped him and merged with him. For the second time since they met, Tsuzuki's spirit synchronized with Hisoka's, this time not for defense or to kill, but to cleanse, to remove the stigma of violation and shame. Tsuzuki did not want to recognize the dishonor was not his to own, it belonged to Muraki. But as he joined with Hisoka's spirit, he was forced to relinquish that dark part of himself back to the Universe. His soul filled with light.

"Soka-kun, I need to tell you what Muraki did to me. But I am very afraid," he finally said as he turned to face the youth. He gripped Hisoka by the upper arms and forced the boy to look at him. Emerald eyes, huge with fear looked trustingly and lovingly into his.

"I don't want to hear it," Hisoka whispered, "But if we are to survive this, you've got to tell me."

Bit by bit, in halting sentences, Tsuzuki related every detail of his rape and torture by Muraki. He shook with the force of his anger and shuddered as fresh tears drenched his cheeks. His guilt over thinking he had killed them all by unleashing Touda was what drove him into hiding in the depths of his darkness, refusing to heal. "Yes, I am a coward," he told Hisoka. "I couldn't face my failure, and I left you to take care of it."

"No, Tsu, you are not a coward, you have never been a coward. You took your desire to care for everyone you love to such an extreme, no one spirit can carry it. But now you're not alone, please believe me. Tsu, I love you. I will fight for you, and I will even die for you, and I will never leave you." The youth delivered his vow as he gently stroked his fingers over and over down Tsuzuki's cheek. The impasse was breached. Tsuzuki's soul found a small measure of peace as he knew he would never leave again.

Exhausted, they curled together on the bed. Hisoka's arm was wrapped tightly around Tsuzuki as he caressed the chocolate-brown hair over and over. The older man's head was snuggled on the teen's chest, his arm locked around his partner's waist in a tight, desperate clutch.

Hisoka told him his red marks from Muraki's spell were gone. He could not sense them in his body or soul. He said it meant Muraki was really dead, but he didn't sound convinced. Tsuzuki, at peace within his spirit, assured him the body of the doctor was truly destroyed, "Nothing could have survived Touda or that cave in." But the older Shinigami was not going to give the youth false reassurance. "I guess we have to remember, though, he was really a spirit vassal of Kyuzaekai. His body was destroyed but an evil such as his always tries to return." He kissed Hisoka's chest. "But together we will fight him if he does come back; you have my oath on it, Soka-kun."

##

Small nibbles along his back woke Tsuzuki up. Hisoka's arms were snuggled around his chest. The youth was planting little kisses over his partner's warm back. The hot erection pressing against Tsuzuki's buttocks told him his partner was fully aroused. He began to quiver with anticipation.

"Umm, Tsuzuki, are you all better now?" Hisoka asked tentatively. Even though they had been sharing the same bed, Tsuzuki had been too weak for them to do anything more than kiss or cuddle. And now, after the catharsis of a few hours ago, Hisoka knew his partner would finally be able to physically and emotionally accept what he had waited so long to offer. Now it was time for him to show Tsuzuki what the man meant to him.

"For what you are thinking, oh yes Hisoka." Tsuzuki started to turn around to kiss the boy, but Hisoka pushed him back. "Let me," was all the teen said. He began kissing the man's neck and down his back. When he reached the creamy buttocks, he parted them slowly and inserted his tongue against Tsuzuki's bud. The older Guardian quivered, his cock hardening painfully. He panted and thought his heart would slam out of his chest with joy.

Hisoka had been dreaming about this for days. Even when he was furious with his partner, his desire played a constant note through his body. He knew what he wanted to do, but he was naïve and little unsure. His cock was engorged and throbbed in anticipation. He was wild to be inside Tsuzuki, the need thrumming along every nerve, it drowned out all other thoughts as he pressed himself against his partner's buttocks. As he grasped his cock to wedge it between Tsuzuki's cheeks, he felt the sudden flood of his sticky precome. Inspiration took over. Hisoka milked himself until his fingers were soaked then gently, almost dubiously, touched Tsuzuki's tight entrance. The older man gasped then adjusted his leg to allow the boy easier contact. Hisoka gently began to work his finger into the tight hole, using his own juices to lubricate the way. As the opening relaxed, he inserted another finger, feeling Tsuzuki's quivers of delight. "Oh, koibito, don't stop!" the man moaned.

Hisoka was panting, part in excitement, part in fear. His cock was hot and hard and begging to be fondled. When three fingers fit comfortable inside Tsuzuki, he pushed his hips closer and inserted his crimson tip against the inviting opening. Then he hesitated. The baneful legacy of Muraki's rape was a part of both of them now. Did he dare do this?

Tsuzuki's hand grabbed Hisoka's hip, and pulled the boy against him. Hisoka tried to thrust in gently but Tsuzuki was very tight. He pushed harder and felt the heat engulf him. He nearly climaxed right then. Hisoka stifled his orgasm and thrust in deeper. He had no idea it would feel this wonderful. Suddenly, Tsuzuki howled. In fear, Hisoka jerked his cock out. "Tsu, Tsu, I'm sorry I didn't mean to hurt you."

Tsuzuki chuckled as he squirmed around to kiss the boy on his quivering mouth. "Oh you sweet boy, you have no idea do you? There's a sweet spot deep inside a man that will send him into pure ecstasy, you just happened to hit it the first time. I don't care if it hurts, if it is you inside me." Tsuzuki showered the trembling boy with butterfly kisses, then turned back and used his hand to guide Hisoka once more against him.

Hisoka moved into Tsuzuki, timid at first, but as the heat flashed through his sheathed member, his body took over. He thrust deeper, engulfing his cock within Tsuzuki's tight, muscled folds. Tsuzuki arched back against him, his moans of pleasure driving the boy to thrust harder. Hisoka's cock slid against his partner's prostate and Tsuzuki howled in joy. As the cries of Tsuzuki's pleasure increased, he could not stop his wild pumping. He was carried away on wave after wave of pure sensation. Instinctively, he reached around Tsuzuki's hip and wrapped his fingers around the man's engorged cock. He stroked Tsuzuki as he plunged deeper with increasing force into his partner's hot center. His orgasm slammed into him hard and fast. He screamed out Tsuzuki's name. He felt his cum slick the man's insides as he shuddered for every last wild sensation. His hand jerked harder on Tsuzuki's engorged cock, heedless of hurting him. Tsuzuki grasped his hand around the boy's smaller fingers and increased their motion. He thrust his member wildly against the boy's hand until gouts of his milky cum spurted over their fingers. His cries through his throat were a symphony of pleasure.

They lay spooned together, panting and a little stunned. Hisoka was unaware of the tears running down his partner's cheeks. He just knew that now they would finally, really begin to heal.

Awe, bet you thought this is the end. No worries, there's one more chappie to (ahem) come ^-^

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	15. Hisoka's Choice

**Hisoka's Choice**

"Wake up Soka, time to go to work," Tsuzuki poked the teen in his ribs, trying to nudge the groggy boy awake. They had shared a shower, drank a little more sake and then wildly fellated each other later during the night. Both were exhausted.

Grumbling, Hisoka tried to roll away and go back to sleep. Who could go to work after making love all night? Tsuzuki kept nudging him in the back. "OK, OK, I'm going," he grumbled and staggered into the bathroom to shower.

"Hurry, you're going be late," Tsuzuki urged. He climbed off the futon and walked over to the bay window, opening it a little. With a deep sigh of contentment, he sat naked on the window seat and lit a cigarette. He relished his first drag enjoying the scent of cigarette smoke as he watched the pale blush of dawn kiss the nearby snow-capped Mt. Inasayama.

"Baka!" Hisoka yelled. He was standing in the doorway to the bathroom dripping wet and livid with anger. A bar of soap came hurling past Tsuzuki, who caught it just in time to prevent it smashing through the window. "It's Sunday! You bastard," Hisoka snarled.

Tsuzuki was laughing so hard the cigarette fell from his lips. When he bent to retrieve it, Hisoka snapped a wet towel at his butt before stomping back into the bathroom. _"Soka-kun, your little backside is so cute, I want to kiss all of it," _Tsuzuki thought looking at his retreating partner. He turned back to the full sunrise illuminating his view of Nagasaki. Appreciatively, he inhaled the fresh scent of morning mixed with lingering odor cigarette smoke. Two arms wiry snaked around his neck, and he felt Hisoka's soft warm tongue lick over his earlobe. "Sorry, Tsu."

The teen buried his face against Tsuzuki's neck, and snuggled against the man, leaning his chest against Tsuzuki's back to nibble again on the delicate shell of his ear. His hand slid around Tsuzuki's chest to fondle one brown bud. Tsuzuki shivered, he loved it when Hisoka played with his nipples. The older Guardian's cock hardened instantly. Then Hisoka's fingers slipped teasingly over his belly to cradle his cock. Tsuzuki moaned as he looked in wonder at the hand gently stoking down _there_!

"Tsuzuki, remember when I said I'd let you know when I am ready?"

Tsuzuki's breath stopped in his throat. Those slim fingers fondling his cock were sending him the one message he yearned to hear.

"I'm ready."

Tsuzuki slowly turned to the boy, and gazed into those emerald eyes. "Do you really want this?" The boy nodded. His eyes were huge, not in fear but anticipation.

"Mind if I shower first?' Tsuzuki asked. He wanted to be as fresh, as clean and as pure as he could be for Hisoka.

Tsuzuki wandered out of the bathroom toweling his chocolate hair. He looked up in delight to see Hisoka stretched out naked on the futon, his jade eyes fastened on Tsuzuki's cock. "Soka, didn't Watari bring us a bottle of oil?" the older Guardian asked.

"Yeah, over there." The youth tried wave his hand casually in the direction of the dresser, but Tsuzuki could see it quiver with excitement.

Suspiciously, Tsuzuki opened the bottle's cork stopper and sniffed. It offered an evocative smell of vanilla and ginger mixed with a flower blend. Trust Watari to give it an extra spin. "Umm, this smells almost good enough to eat," Tsuzuki said with a smack of his lips.

"Well, if you want to eat, let's go" Hisoka said as he jumped off the futon and headed for the closet.

"Oh no, you're not bailing out on me now, little one," Tsuzuki chuckled as he grabbed him around this waist and lightly tossed him back on the futon. He tried to climb on top, intending to rub a little oil over that creamy body. Hisoka made a grab for his cock, and then tried to pull him down for a kiss. Neither succeeded. Oil splashed everywhere as laughing they tussled for the bottle. The futon creaked ominously. Eventually, Tsuzuki's size won out, and Hisoka lay panting and laughing underneath him. Tsuzuki realized this was the first time he'd ever heard the boy's carefree laugh. He looked deeply into those jade eyes, and knew his partner had made a decision. A Rubicon had been passed.

"Aaishiteru Soka, aishiteru," he whispered his devotion as his mouth descended on the boy's lips. He devoured that pretty mouth, kissing all over Hisoka's face and throat, down his chest and belly, along his arms and thighs. He suckled each nipple until Hisoka mewled with joy. He worshipped at the boy's cock, lapping at it and sucking its engorged glans until the youth quivered on the edge of release.

Then fulfilling his earlier desire, he flipped the boy onto his belly and kissed every centimeter of his twin mounds. He pushed his tongue between the firm cheeks, and took his first taste of Hisoka's delicate bud. Hisoka mewled as he felt the velvet surface scrape over his opening. Tsuzuki's hands caressed the boy's creamy buttocks delighting in feeling Hisoka squirm for more contact.

Hisoka rolled over, determined to look into his partner's amethyst eyes, needing to see his passion and heat. The youth's hands roamed endlessly over Tsuzuki, his mouth feverishly kissing everywhere he could reach. Tsuzuki shuddered and nearly came when he felt his partner's hand grasp his cock, and his thumb slide over the tip.

"Now, Tsuzuki, please, do it. Take me now." Hisoka begged. His jade eyes were glazed with desire. He began to turn his back on, pushing his tight rump against the older man's sex. Tsuzuki stopped him. "No, Soka, I want to look into your eyes, I need you to look at me."

The boy watched with lust-filled eyes wide in anticipation as Tsuzuki knelt between his legs. His lips were swollen from Tsuzuki's kisses. His arms arched over his head to grasp the futon's frame. He was offering himself totally to his lover. "I trust you Tsu," he whispered.

The massage oil was imbued with a mild aphrodisiac, some little magical gift from Watari. Tsuzuki immediately felt the little tingle of pleasure as he coated his fingers and his cock. Gently he inserted the tip of one digit into the boy's tight opening. At the same moment, he lowered his mouth onto Hisoka's sliding his tongue in to distract the boy. But Hisoka was ready. His low throaty moan of pleasure told Tsuzuki that there would be no holding back. Still, the older man wanted to savor every second. His ministrations were slow as he teased the delicate erogenous bud to relax and open further. A second finger slipped in, and he felt a thrill of joy as Hisoka moved his hips to take in more. The boy's eyes were closed, not in fear, but ecstasy.

"Tsu, more, please, more" he begged. He could feel the surges of electricity every time Tsuzuki pushed his fingers in deeper. He was yearning for more, greedy to finally feel his partner's cock inside him. "Tsu, please now," He felt the hot tip of Tsuzuki's organ nudge his quivering opening. Then, gently Tsuzuki's lips touched each closed eyelid. "Open your eyes, Soka, look at me," the man said. When those jade pools locked onto his, Tsuzuki gently touched the boy's lips with one finger. Hisoka's tongue laved the digit then moved to taste another one. The simple gesture suffused with such love shook Tsuzuki to his core.

Jade eyes fell into amethyst as with a soft nudge, Tsuzuki pushed into the boy's opening. Hisoka cried out with pain. Tsuzuki pulled back. The teen swiftly locked his legs around Tsuzuki's back. He looked up with pain-filled eyes. "Don't stop; don't deny me this Tsuzuki, please. This is my choice."

Tsuzuki tried to soften his erection. He pushed in harder this time ignoring Hisoka's cry. Then he stilled himself to give the youth time to adjust. "Keep looking at me," he murmured. The boy drowned in those amethyst eyes. Tsuzuki started to ease in deeper. With a cry of welcome, Hisoka wrapped his legs tighter around his partner's hips, and sheathed himself hard onto his partner's cock. He gasped in pain as he took Tsuzuki's member in all the way. But then the organ's hot tip grazed the youth's prostate, and every nerve in his body fired in a conflagration of pleasure. He arched his back, and threw his head back in a howl of pure joy.

Hisoka began to thrust himself harder onto Tsuzuki's shaft. The heat from those tight, muscled folds seared Tsuzuki's cock. The older Guardian looked down and saw the sweet nectar dripping from Hisoka's taut arc of flesh. He wrapped his oil-slicked fingers around the youth's shaft and began to stroke in rhythm with his thrusts. Their organs throbbed and swelled simultaneously.

Deliberately, Hisoka opened his mind fully to his lover. He needed to feel all of Tsuzuki's ecstasy. Their love and passion resonated as they fed each other physically and psychically. With cries of pure bliss, both went over the edge, coming in absolute synchronicity. The incandescence of their orgasms resonated in their minds as one. The intensity of their coming was amplified as over and over as their cum shot from their bodies.

Tsuzuki lay on Hisoka, using his elbows to keep from crushing the boy. They drew in air through deep rasping breaths. Beneath him, Hisoka was panting, both arms flat across the mattress. But his eyes were glittering emerald pools of pure awe. Tsuzuki had felt Hisoka merging his mind and his pleasure with his during those last incredible moments. He had never felt such sexual intensity before. His body would not stop surging with flashes of his orgasm. His cock throbbed and refused to soften.

"Soka, what did you do?" he needed to know.

"It just happened. I needed all of you," the boy stammered, not quite apologetic. "I've never felt anything so wonderful."

"Me neither, Soka-chan. But maybe we need to go a little slower next time, I might have a heart attack," he chuckled. He started to pull out of the youth, but Hisoka clamped his legs tighter around him in a clear signal to stay. When they finally turned on their on their sides, Tsuzuki reluctantly withdrew, instantly missing the connection. But they wrapped their arms around each other, and lay in a cocoon of satiation and love. Both Guardians were trembling as they kissed each other softly, unwilling to relinquish the feel of the other.

"Tus?"

"Ummm?"

"I love it when you fuck me but …."

Tsuzuki's heart skipped a couple of beats as he tensed.

"I much rather be the top," the teen chuckled.

"I'll be on the bottom as often as you want me," Tsuzuki murmured as he nuzzled the youth's neck. "How about now?"

##

Hisoka was peacefully asleep his head pillowed on Tsuzuki's chest, his arms around the man's waist in a fierce, possessive hug. Soft lashes curled against his cheek, sweet mouth slightly ajar. He was sated and at peace

Brilliant light flooded the room. The sun was approaching its zenith. The amethyst eyed-Guardian looked out his window at the rich promise of the day. There, in the brilliant glare of the sun hung the ghost of the full moon as pale and delicate as a sakura blossom.

Tsuzuki pulled a cigarette from the pack and lit it with a flick of his lighter. He watched the smoke waft toward the ceiling. They were both defiled forever by Muraki's evil. Sometimes during the nights, Hisoka whimpered in his sleep and pressed closer to his partner for reassurance. And the thin stream of smoke from between Tsuzuki's fingers served as mute conviction that he and Muraki were still bound, that he will never be completely free of the monster. A sob suddenly tore out of him. Muraki was dead! They had destroyed one of the most evil creatures ever created. But with that death, another weight was added to the burden of Tsuzuki's soul.

THE END

LOL, sorry fans who think Hisoka is the uke. He's definitely the seme in my book … after all he has all the guns!

_Domo arigato gozaimasu_ to all you readers and reviewers.

_Mind, Spirit, Heart_

_Namaste_

Love this story? Love M/M romance? Love samurai and vampires? Visit the author's profile for more news about her first M/M erotic romance.

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